Cis told Rodney all about herself; he told her some things about himself. They were friends at the end of the little excursion, “pals,” Cis liked to call it, finding this “pal” more delightful than any other she had known; clever, humorous, charming. She did not hesitate to speak of this charm. “I didn’t know anyone but a girl had your kind of fun; boys don’t usually know how to play your way,” Cis cried delightedly. “You’re lots of fun, and you’re really as nice as you can be!” “I’m not a boy, Cicely,” Rodney replied, a trifle sadly--they were Cicely and Rodney by this time. “I don’t suppose I played this way when I was a boy, but I had the material in me and experience cultivated it. Glad you like me, jolly Cicely.” “Yes, I do. It was luck that made me find you to-day; I knew luck was running my way when I came to Beaconhite! Aren’t you a boy, quite young, anyway? You haven’t told me that,” said Cis. “I’m thirty, shall be thirty-one next spring, and that’s beyond boyhood. Why do you lay such stress on boyhood, my dear? Neither it, nor girlhood lasts,” he said. “I shall be twenty-two on Christmas Day,” said Cis slowly. “I don’t know why, but I belong with boys; I don’t belong with grown men.” “Only with this grown man. We’re friends, and dates don’t alter it,” he said quickly. “Were you born on Christmas Day? What a sell! Shame, Pal-Cicely.” “Shame? Why is it? I always liked it a lot; nice day to be born on, seems to me,” cried Cis. “The whole world glad on your birthday, and----” she checked herself. “Does you out of a separate _festa_, and additional gifts,” said Rodney. “But your magnificent hair would serve for Christmas decorations; I never saw such hair, Cicely! I’m going to call you Holly; do you mind?” “Not I!” Cis laughed delightedly. “It isn’t that kind of red, but it’s pretty flaring.” “It is glorious; copper, gold and pure flame! Wouldn’t Titian have had a fit over it! Holly, I hate to say it, but if we’re to lunch, we’ve got to be getting back to it,” suggested Rodney. “I am hungry,” agreed Cis. “I’ve had a fine morning; much obliged. You’ve no idea how lonely I was beginning to feel, and the girls I tried to creep up toward poked me off with icy finger tips, wouldn’t stoop to use a whole palm! Are you going to introduce me to some nice girls?” “Want another pal already?” Rodney said reproachfully. “Oh, no; you’re all-around satisfactory, but I do want to know girls, too. Please let me know your nicest friends,” begged Cis, laughing, but in earnest. Rodney considered. Rapidly he passed in mental review the girls whom he knew; society girls, young matrons, some of other rank. None to whom he could compare this dewy, sweet, merry, daring, innocent Cicely, none with whom he could think of her in combination. “I’ll look some up, Cicely,” he said. “I had a sister, but she has been gone these many years, and would have been too old for you; older than I am. We’re all right as we are for the time being, aren’t we?”