"And I do love him," said Etta, calmed again by Susan's calmness. "And if he married me--Oh, how grateful I'd be!" "I should say!" exclaimed Susan. She kissed Etta and petted her. "And he'll have a mighty good wife." "Do you think I can marry him?" "If you love him--and don't worry about catching him." Etta shook her head in rejection of this piece of idealistic advice. "But a girl's got to be shrewd. You ought to be more so, Lorna." "That depends on what a girl wants," said Susan, absently. "Upon what she wants," she repeated. "What do _you_ want?" inquired Etta curiously. "I don't know," Susan answered slowly. "I wish I knew what was going on in your head!" exclaimed Etta. "So do I," said Susan, smiling. "Do you really mind my going? Really--honestly?" There wasn't a flaw in Susan's look or tone. "If you tried to stay with me, I'd run away from you." "And if I do get him, I can help you. Once he's mine----" Etta rounded out her sentence with an expression of countenance which it was well her adoring rescuer did not see. Not that it lacked womanliness; "womanly" is the word that most exactly describes it--and always will exactly describe such expressions--and the thoughts behind--so long as men compel women to be just women, under penalty of refusing them support if they are not so. Redmond came in, and Etta left him alone with Susan. "Well, has Etta told you?" he asked. "Yes," replied the girl. She looked at him--simply a look, but the violet-gray eyes had an unusual seeming of seeing into minds and hearts, an expression that was perhaps the more disquieting because it was sympathetic rather than critical. His glance shifted. He was a notably handsome young fellow--too young for any display of character in his face, or for any development of it beyond the amiable, free and easy lover of a jolly good time that is the type repeated over and over again among the youth of the comfortable classes that send their sons to college. "Are you going with her?" he asked. "No," said Susan. Redmond's face fell. "I hoped you liked me a little better than that," said he. "It isn't a question of you." "But it's a question of _you_ with me," he cried. "I'm in love with you, Lorna. I'm--I'm tempted to say all sorts of crazy things that I think but haven't the courage to act on." He kneeled down beside her, put his arms round her waist. "I'm crazy about you, Lorna. . . . Tell me---- Were you---- Had you been--before we met?" "Yes," said Susan. "Why don't you deny it?" he exclaimed. "Why don't you fool me, as Etta fooled Gus?" "Etta's story is different from mine," said Susan. "She's had no experience at all, compared to me." "I don't believe it," declared he. "I know she's been stuffing Fatty, has made him think that you led her away. But I can soon knock those silly ideas out of his silly head----" "It's the truth," interrupted Susan, calmly.