“And will it have a tall chimney that belches smoke?” “I trust ultimately to attain to the kind of a chimney you refer to. At present, I shall have to content myself with a comparatively insignificant one. I have visions of a chimney four hundred feet high some day.” “Belching ugly smoke?” “It won’t look ugly to me. It’ll look blissful.” The biggest sigh of all quivered from afar. “Another dream shattered! My! but I’m growing up fast. I feel a million years old. Anyhow, I’ll never marry Dickie.” “Wouldn’t if I were you. He doesn’t fight fair. Before he got through he’d have all your dad’s chimneys, as well as his own, and then he’d put you on an allowance. You’d have to account for every pin and needle you bought.” “Yes; I know. When I do find the right man I’ll bring him to you and let you pass in judgment. You shall tell me whether I can or can’t.” “All right—though isn’t that rather a paternal prerogative?” “Oh, dad always lets me do what I want. You’re the only man that has ever dared oppose me.” “But suppose I did oppose you in a matter of such importance?” Miss Dolly thought. “We won’t cross that bridge before we come to it. You said you were thinking _and_ dreaming. I know what you were thinking about. Now, what were you dreaming about all by your lonely, sitting by the fire?” Bob was glad he didn’t have to blurt out the truth any more. He evaded. “Did I say dreaming?” he asked. “You did. Was it of some one?” “Pooh! What nonsense!” “Oh, it isn’t nonsense to do that.” “I was only thinking of chimneys and things like that,” returned Bob. That was an out-and-outer. He shuddered to think of the answer he would have had to make a few days ago. “Never mind,” said the jolly little pal. “You needn’t tell me. There are some things we keep locked up, forever and ever, in the inner sanctums of our hearts, aren’t there?” Sadly. “And we die and they are buried with us. Oh, dear! I’m beginning to feel dreadful. Only jolly little pal is awfully sorry.” For him, she meant. Bob winced. “I hate to think of you sitting there, poor dear, all alone, and—and—” “I’m having a bully time—honest,” said Bob. “I really am. I’m planning out my future. I’m going to do something. I’m tired of being nothing. I’ll work right with the workmen at first.” “And you will be all perspirey and covered with soot?” In horror. “I’ll be worse than that. I’ll be sweaty and covered with soot,” said Bob practically. Dolly groaned. “It seems to me as if everything is upside down.” “No. Downside down. ‘Life is real; life is earnest,’” he quoted, laughing. “Oh, dear! That solemn sound! I can tell you are terribly determined.” He did not answer. “Well, good-by, great, big, perspirey—I mean sweaty, sooty old pal!” “Good-by, Dolly. And thank you for calling me up. It did me good to hear little pal’s voice. Wish me luck.” “I’ll send you a horseshoe to-morrow,” she laughed. And then suddenly, as an afterthought— “By the way, I have a ’fession to make.”