By this time their faces were close together; a sort of heady lightness in the atmosphere set them both to laughing foolishly; their voices trembled on uncertain notes. An exhilarating sense of her own sex and charm thrilled Julia; she knew that he found her sweet and young and wonderful. "I'd like to talk about _you_!" said Carter Hazzard. Julia found his audacity delightful; she began to feel that she could not keep up with the dazzling rush of his repartee. "You know, the minute I saw you--" he added. "Now, _don't_ tell me I'm pretty!" Julia begged, with another flashing look. "No--no!" the man exclaimed, discarding mere beauty with violence. "Pretty! Lord! what does prettiness matter? Of course you're pretty, but do you know what I said to myself the minute I saw you? I said, 'I'll bet that little girl has _brains_!' You smile," said Mr. Hazzard, with passionate earnestness, "but I'll swear to God I did!" "Oh, you just want me to believe that!" scoffed Julia, dimpling. What they said, however, mattered as little as what might be said by the two occupants of a boat that was drifting swiftly toward rapids. "Why do you think an unkind thing like that?" Carter asked reproachfully. "Was that unkind?" Julia countered innocently. At which Mr. Hazzard observed irrelevantly, in a low voice: "Do you know you're absolutely fascinating? Do you? You're just the kind of little girl I want to know--to be friends with--to have for a pal!" Julia was quite wise enough to know that whatever qualifications she possessed for this pleasing position could hardly have made themselves evident to Mr. Hazzard during their very brief acquaintance, and she was not a shade more sincere than he as she answered coquettishly: "Yes, that's what they all say! And then they--" She stopped. "And then they--what?" breathed Carter, playing with the loose ribbons of her feather boa. "Then they fall in love with me!" pouted the girl, raising round eyes. Carter was intoxicated at this confession, and laughed out loud. "But you're too young to play at falling in love!" he warned her. "How old are you--seventeen? And you haven't told me your name yet?" "You know my name is Miss Page," smiled Julia. "And do you think I'm going to call you that?" Carter reproached her. "It might be Jane," she suggested. "Yes, but it isn't, you little devil!" Suddenly the man caught both her wrists, and Julia got on her feet, and instinctively flung back her head. "You're going to kiss me for that!" he said, half laughing, half vexed. "Oh, no, I'm not!" A sudden twist of her body failed to free her, and the plume on her hat brushed his cheek.