Quin contemplated his clasped fists earnestly. For the first time, his belief in the consent of the governed admitted of exceptions. "I'd go a bit slow," he said, feeling his own way cautiously. "This stage business is a doubtful proposition. I don't see where the fun comes in, pretending to be somebody else all the time." "You would if you didn't like being yourself. Besides, I don't live my own life as it is." "You will some day--when you get married." "But that's just it! I don't intend to marry--I am going to devote my whole life to my work." Quin, having but recently recovered from the fear that she was contemplating matrimony, now underwent a similar torture at her avowal that she was not. The second possibility was only a shade less appalling than the first. "The trouble is," she went on very confidentially, "I am not interested in anything in the world but my art." "Oh, come now, Miss Eleanor!" Quin rallied her. "You know you were interested in the work out at the camp." "That's true. I except that." "And you can't say you haven't been interested in our selling this farm, and getting Mr. and Mrs. Ranny fixed up, and all that." "Of course I've been interested in that; it's been no end of fun." "And then," Quin pursued his point quite brazenly, "there's me. I hope you are a little bit interested in me?" She tried to take it lightly. "Interested in you? Why, of course I am. We all are. Uncle Ranny was saying only this morning----" "I don't care a hang what he said. It's _you_ I'm talking about. Do you like me any better than you did in the spring?" "You silly boy, I've always liked you." "But I told you I wanted a lot. Have I made any headway?" "Headway? I should say you have. I never saw such improvement! If the university classes have done this much for you in four months, what will you be by the end of the year?" "That's right," said Quin bitterly. "Open the switch and sidetrack me! But just tell me one thing: is there anybody you _are_ interested in?" "Now, see here, Quin," said Eleanor peremptorily, "you haven't any right to ask me questions like that. All I promised was that you could be my chum." "Yes; but I meant a chum plus." "Well, you'd better look out or you will be a chum minus." Then she caught sight of his eyes, and leaned forward in sudden contrition. "I'm sorry to hurt you, Quin, but you must understand----" "I do," he admitted miserably. "Only this week out here together, and the way you've looked at me sometimes, made me kind of hope----" His voice broke. "It's all right. I'll wait some more." This was the time Eleanor should have carried out her intention of going back to the house. Instead, she sat on in the deepening twilight under the feminine delusion that she was being good to the miserable youth who sat huddled close to her knees on the step below her.