"Of course I am. I'm her oldest playmate," he said, proudly. Trudy's temper jumped the stockade. "So, you paste jewel, you'll go mincing into church and see her married and dance with everyone afterward; and I'll sit in the office licking postage stamps while you kiss the bride! I'm better looking than she is; and if you are good enough to go to that wedding so am I!" "Why, Trudy," he began, in a bewildered fashion, "don't make a scene." "No use making a scene in a fifty-cent cafe," she told him, bitterly, "but I'm plenty good looking enough to have a real man buy me a real dinner with a taxi and wine and violets as extras. Don't think you are doing me a big favour by being engaged to me." "Oh, you're a great little girl," he said, nervously; "and it's all going to come out right. It does rile me to think of your working for Steve. Never mind, my ship will come in and then we'll show them all." "I'm twenty-three and you're twenty-six, and my eyes ache when I work steadily. I'll have to wear glasses in another year--but I'll wash clothes before I'll do it!" "When it gets that bad we'll be married," he said, seriously. The humour passed over Trudy's head. "Married on what?" She was her prettiest when angry and she stirred in Gaylord's one-cylinder brain a resolve to play fairy-godfather husband and somehow deliver a fortune at her feet. "I can't live at your club," she continued; "and your sister is jealous of her husband and wouldn't want me round. We couldn't live with the Faithfuls; Mary's a nice girl but I can't go their quiet ways. I only stay because it's cheap. I owe more than two hundred dollars right now." Gaylord was sympathetic. "I owe more than that," he admitted; "but I'm going to have some concerts and there'll be good horse races soon--sure things, you know. You'll see, little girl. What would you say if I showed you a real bank account?" "I wouldn't waste time talking. I'd marry you." Her good humour was returning. "Honest, Gay, do you think you might draw down some kale?" Like all her kind she had an absurd trust in any one who was paying her attention. With a different type of man Trudy would have been beaten, courageously had the gentleman arrested, and then interfered when the judge was directing him to the penitentiary. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way. When we are married and you meet my friends you'll have to brush up on a lot of things." "I guess I'll manage to be understood," she retorted; "and when we are married maybe you can get my job so as to support your wife!" The orchestra began playing a new rag, and Trudy and Gay immediately left their chairs to be the first couple on the floor. They were prouder of their dancing than of each other.