Again she looked at him critically. His manner was not cheerless--yet what pain might not be hidden by bravado? “Yes, come,” she said. Looking down at her, he saw that her eyes were full of pity and sympathy and tender appeal--yes, and tears. He came to stand in front of her. “Do you know,” he said, “I think Genevieve is an epidemic. We’ve all had it, by Jove, just as if it were contagious. But, luckily, it’s not incurable.” “Let’s not criticise her, Phil.” He smiled and shook his head. “You’ve got the disease worse than anybody,” he declared. He swept one arm about the room, pointing--to the picture of Genevieve on the mantle; to the two pictures of Genevieve on the writing-desk; to the panel between the two bookcases, where Genevieve was feeding the fawn. “One, two, three, four,” he counted. Then he looked at the round gold locket hanging between the lapels of her coat. “And I’ll bet a pony that there’s a picture of Genevieve in that locket,” he added. She blushed, hastily hid the locket in the palm of a hand, and stood up. “The brown pony?” she said. “Books, gloves, cigars, ties,” enumerated Phil, “I don’t care what you bet. Come!” “I like that brown pony. But--I shan’t bet.” “Why not?” “Because I’m betting about something that I know about, and you’re betting about something that you don’t know about. It would be taking advantage of you.” “Is it that, or is it that you don’t want to admit that you’ve got the Genevieve epidemic?” Two spots of scarlet brightened her cheeks. “I’ll wager a box of gloves with you against the pony that Genevieve’s picture _isn’t_ in this locket; but on one condition: Grandmamma must look at the locket and tell you Yes or No.” He shook his head. “I won’t agree to that. I’ve got to look at it myself.” Sue also shook her head. “The bet is off,” she said. “Sorry.” “Oh, come on!” he entreated. “I’ll never throw it up to you--honest.” Sue moved away to the hearth. “No,” she said decidedly. He followed her, laughing, and pried open her fingers. She seized the chain and pulled back. He held on to the locket and stood his ground. The next moment the chain broke and slipped through Sue’s fingers, and the locket was in his hand. Sue sprang forward and tried to regain it. “Oh, Phil, don’t look!” she pleaded. “Please, Phil, _please_. You----” But he had fled to the other end of the room, pressed the locket-spring, looked, caught his breath, stared at her in amazement, backed a step---- She covered her face with her trembling fingers. “Oh, Phil!” she whispered tearfully; “Oh, Phil!” He ran to her then and caught her to him. “Sue!” he cried tenderly. “My girl! How could you keep it there--when I’ve been such a fool! But this whole thing has taught me what your dear comradeship means to me, and just how much I love you.” And he drew her trembling hands away while he kissed her. She clung to him, crying, and hid her face; then smiled up at him through swimming eyes, and drew his face down to hers.