"Just what don't you like?" asked Avery, smiling. "Won't you tell me, truly? I won't tell any one, and I'd like to be sure of one thing you object to--on principle." "Well, tob--Do you smoke?" she asked. He shook his head, and pursed up his lips negatively. "I thought not," she said, gaily. "You look like you didn't. Well, I hate--hate--hate--hate smoke. When I go on a ferry-boat, and the air is so nice and cool and different from at home, and seems so clean, I just love it, and then--" "Some one sits near you and smokes," put in Avery, consolingly. "Yes, they do; and I just most pray that he'll fall over and get drownded--but he never does; and if he asks me if I object to smoke, I say, 'Oh! not at all!' and then he thinks I'm such a nice, sensible girl. Fan tells 'em right out that she don't like it. It makes her deadly sick, and the boys all hate her for it. Her father says it's da---- I was going to say his cuss word, but I guess I won't. Anyhow, he says it's all nonsense and put on. I guess I better go. There is her father looking for us. Poor Fan'll catch it when we get home! Good-night. I've had a lovely time, haven't you?" She waved her hand. Then she retraced the step she had taken. "Don't tell that I don't like tobacco," she said, and started away laughing. He followed her a few steps. "How is any fellow to know what you really do like?" he asked, smiling, "if you do that way?" "Fan says nobody wants to know," she said, slyly. "She says they want to know that I like what they want me to like, and think what they think I think." She laughed again. "And of course I do," she added, and bowed in mock submission. "Now, Fan don't. That's where she misses it; and if she don't--reform," she said, lowering her voice, as she neared that young lady's father, "she is going to see trouble that is trouble. I'll bet a cent on it. Don't you?" she asked, as she bestowed a bright smile upon Mr. King. "Yes," said Avery, and lifting his hat, turned on his heel and was lost in the crowd. "Where's Fan?" inquired that young lady's father in a tone which indicated that, as a matter of course, she was up to some devilment again. "She got a headache and went home quite a while ago," said that young lady's loyal little friend. "She enjoyed it quite a lot till she did get a headache." As they neared the street where both lived, Ettie said: "That man talked to her, and I think she liked him." "Humph!" said Mr. King. "I wouldn't be surprised. She'd be likely to take to a lunatic. I thought he was about the damnedest fool I ever saw; didn't you?" "Yes," said Ettie, laughing, "and I liked him for it." Mr. King burst into a roar of laughter. "Of course you did! You'd like the devil. You're that easy to please. I wish to the Lord Fan was," and with a hearty "goodnight," he left her at her father's door, and crossed the street.