"You are like the rest of your sex," he began. But at that moment a paper fluttered out of the book whose leaves he had been turning carelessly as they talked. "Very _apropos_," he said, taking it up. "This is the work of a college-friend of mine. I trust you'll pardon my reading it:-- "While daisies swing on their slender stalks, As when the spring was new; While golden-rod into bloom has burst, As summer quite were through; Then 'tis ah! and alack! and well-a-day! For the time when dreams were true: 'Tis best to be off with the old love Before you are on with the new! "For happy with either, Is happy with neither, And love is hard to tame: The old love's grieving, The new's believing, Both feed the treacherous flame. "Clarissa's sad crying, Dorinda's sweet sighing, Alike my comfort fears; Fain would I ease me From things that tease me,-- Dorinda's doubting, Clarissa's tears. "Soon daisies fade from the sloping fields They graced when spring was new; And golden-rod alone on the hills Proclaims the summer through; Then heigh-ho! and alack! and well-a-way! Is a second love less true? Be speedily off with the old love, And speedily on with the new!" "That is simply abominable!" Patty exclaimed. "He had no idea what love is!" "I understand that to imply that you do," Mr. Putnam said critically. "Women know that by intuition." "Oh!" "Every woman desires the sort of love Suckling describes," she said insistently, standing at the window, with her back toward her companion. "I beg your pardon," he said. "Taste in love is as different as taste in flavors." "But every one must desire true love." "True love is no more palatable to all than is honey." She turned suddenly, and faced him. He was startled to see how pale she was. "What is it?" he cried, springing up from his lounging position. "Are you dizzy?" "Yes, yes," she said. He made her sit down, and began to fan her with his hat. Every look and motion was full of solicitude, but the girl shrank from him. "It is nothing. It has passed now," she said; by a strong effort recovering her composure. "I am very sorry," he began; but she interrupted him. "It is all passed," she said, laughing nervously. "I am very foolish. What do you think of the weather?" "The moon last night entertained a select circle with one or two stars in it," he said slowly, while he watched her with keen eyes; "and that seems to promise rain." "That is unfortunate," she answered, rising. "We have rehearsal in the afternoon at Selina Brown's, and it is so uncomfortable getting about in the rain!" "You are not going home now?" "I must. I am deeply grateful to you for your hospitality, and more for your frankness." "My frankness?" "Good-by." "Wait. You will be dizzy on the ladders." "Nonsense! I never was dizzy in my life." "Not a moment ago?"