“It’s probably Monahan and his gang,” said Briggs, hurrying out of the room. “I forgot to ask Michael----” “Well, then, tell Guy--” Fanny called after him, but he disappeared before she had time to finish the sentence. She stood disconsolate in the middle of the room. “Nobody seems to care for me around here,” she said. “I’ve a good mind to go home.” Then she turned and saw Guy Fullerton smiling at her. “Hello, Fan!” he said. Fanny promptly turned her back on him. “Everything seems to be going wrong this morning,” she said. “I almost wish I hadn’t come.” “Oh, you do, do you?” Guy walked to the opposite side of the room, dropped into a chair and rested his head on his hand. “Now, don’t you go and be silly,” cried Fanny, glancing at him over her shoulder. Guy looked relieved. “I thought you were mad with me. Oh, that’s all right, then. If you could only have some sort of sign to show just _who_ you’re mad with, you know! Fan,” he went on, softly, “as long as we’re alone, can’t we--can’t we fix it up? You and--” He touched his chest with his forefinger. Fanny gave a little jump. Her eyes beamed. “Sir,” she cried, “is this a proposal?” Then she added, in a tone of disappointment: “Does it come like this?” “You know I’ve been awfully fond of you for a long time,” Guy pleaded. Fanny smiled into his face. “How long?” “Well, since last Winter. Since those days we went skating together.” Fanny clasped her hands rapturously. “Weren’t they glorious! Well, I’ll say one thing for you, you’re a good _skater_.” Then she rolled her eyes. “But your dancing!” “Will you?” said Guy, plaintively. Fanny dropped into a chair and let her hands rest in her lap. She grew very thoughtful. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Think about it!” Guy repeated, derisively. Fanny assumed an injured air. “Yes, they always say that in books. I’m going to do this in the proper way, even if you don’t.” Guy looked disconsolate. “Oh, you never take a fellow seriously.” “Don’t I?” This time Fanny’s voice had the ring of sincerity. “Well, what do you want me to do?” “Just say we’re engaged, can’t you?” Guy pleaded. Fanny rose and drew herself up with dignity. “You must speak to my father,” she said, with a demure bow. “Oh, there you are again! You won’t take me seriously for one consecutive minute.” Fanny clasped her hands again and held them extended before her. “I have an idea. Let’s pretend that I’m dad. That’ll be great. Now here’s dad, walking up and down the library. That’s what he always used to do whenever I got into a scrape and the governess sent me to him.” She cleared her throat and thrust her hand into her shirt-waist. “Well, sir?” she said, in a deep voice. “Oh, say, now!” Guy exclaimed, in disgust.