"Oh--yes," assented she, as if she understood. But she didn't. In Sutherland the young people were not so mindful of gossip, which it was impossible to escape, anyhow. Still--off there in the East, no doubt, they had more refined ways; without a doubt, whatever Sam did was the correct thing. "Do you still care as you did last night?" he asked. The effect of his words upon her was so obvious that he glanced nervously round. It was delightful to be able to evoke a love like this; but he did wish others weren't looking. "I'm going to Uncle's store," she said. "I'm late." "I'll walk part of the way with you," he volunteered, and they started on. "That--that kiss," he stammered. "I can feel it yet." She blushed deeply, happily. Her beauty made him tingle. "So can I," she said. They walked in silence several squares. "When will I see you again?" he asked. "Tonight?" "Yes--do come down. But--Ruth'll be there. I believe Artie Sinclair's coming." "Oh, that counter-jumper?" She looked at him in surprise. "He's an awfully nice fellow," said she. "About the nicest in town." "Of course," replied Sam elaborately. "I beg your pardon. They think differently about those things in the East." "What thing?" "No matter." Sam, whose secret dream was to marry some fashionable Eastern woman and cut a dash in Fifth Avenue life, had no intention of explaining what was what to one who would not understand, would not approve, and would be made auspicious of him. "I suppose Ruth and Sinclair'll pair off and give us a chance." "You'll come?" "Right after din--supper, I mean. In the East we have dinner in the evening." "Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Susan. But she was thinking of the joys in store for her at the close of the day. "I must go back now," said Sam. Far up the street he saw his sister's pony cart coming. "You might as well walk to the store." It seemed to her that they both had ever so much to say to each other, and had said nothing. "No. I can't go any further. Good-by--that is, till tonight." He was red and stammering. As they shook hands emotion made them speechless. He stumbled awkwardly as he turned to leave, became still more hotly self-conscious when he saw the grin on the faces of the group of loungers at a packing case near the curb. Susan did not see the loafers, did not see anything distinctly. Her feet sought the uneven brick sidewalk uncertainly, and the blood was pouring into her cheeks, was steaming in her brain, making a red mist before her eyes. She was glad he had left her. The joy of being with him was so keen that it was pain. Now she could breathe freely and could dream--dream--dream. She made blunder after blunder in working over the accounts with her uncle, and he began to tease her. "You sure are in love, Brownie," declared he. Her painful but happy blush delighted him. "Tell me all about it?" She shook her head, bending it low to hide her color. "No?. . . Sometime?"