"I don't know," he stammered confusedly. How could he tell her? "A moment ago you seemed well pleased with what you'd done." "Well, I guess I went too far. I wasn't very polite." "You never are." "I'm going to try to do better.... No, I don't think it would be wise for me to go and apologize to her." She was looking at him strangely. "Why are you so anxious to conciliate her?" He saw what a break he had made, became all at once red and inarticulate. "What is she to you?" persisted the girl. "Nothing at all," he blustered. "I don't care--THAT"--he snapped his fingers--"for her opinion. I don't care if everybody in the world is against our marrying. I want just you--only you." "Obviously," said she with a dry laugh that was highly disconcerting to him. "I certainly have no fortune--or hope of one, so far as I know." This so astounded, so disconcerted him that he forgot to conceal it. "Why, I thought--your grandmother--that is--" He was remembering, was stammering, was unable to finish. "Go on," she urged, obviously enjoying his hot confusion. He became suddenly angry. "Look here, Margaret," he cried, "you don't suspect me of--" She put her fingers on his lips and laughed quietly at him. "You'd better run along now. I'm going to hurry away to grandmother, to try to repair the damage you did." She rose and called, "Lucia! Lucia!" The round, rosy, rather slovenly Miss Severence appeared in the little balcony--the only part of the house in view from where they sat. "Telephone the stables for the small victoria," called Margaret. "Mother's out in it," replied Lucia. "Then the small brougham." "I want that. Why don't you take the electric?" "All right." Lucia disappeared. Margaret turned upon the deeply-impressed Craig. "What's the matter?" asked she, though she knew. "I can't get used to this carriage business," said he. "I don't like it. Where the private carriage begins just there democracy ends. It is the parting of the ways. People who are driving have to look down; people who aren't have to look up." "Nonsense!" said Margaret, though it seemed to her to be the truth. "Nonsense, of course," retorted Craig. "But nonsense rules the world." He caught her roughly by the arm. "I warn you now, when we--" "Run along, Josh," cried she, extricating herself and laughing, and with a wave of the hand she vanished into the shrubbery. As soon as she was beyond the danger of having to continue that curious conversation she walked less rapidly. "I wonder what he really thinks," she said to herself. "I wonder what I really think. I suspect we'd both be amazed at ourselves and at each other if we knew." Arrived at her grandmother's she had one more and huger cause for wonder. There were a dozen people in the big salon, the old lady presiding at the tea-table in high good humor. "Ah--here you are, Margaret," cried she. "Why didn't you bring your young man?" "He's too busy for frivolity," replied Margaret.