"I'm going now," said René. "I shan't be more than half an hour." "I don't mind betting," chuckled his father, "that you'll be more than that. There's no end to it when these women get to dressing up for each other. Look at your mother; she's been brushing her hair this half-hour past." "I thought you were out," said René, cold with an almost hatred. "Me? Tea-partying's my line. Always has been." "Don't tease him," said Mrs. Fourmy. "Don't tease him." Mr. Fourmy had his waistcoat unbuttoned, so that to René he seemed all fat stomach bulging through coarse shirting. He turned away in disgust. As he closed the door he heard his mother say: "It isn't fair when the boy's in love." He held the door open, and heard his father turn on the creaking bed and laugh and say: "Love? A gawk like that? Statues are his line, not women." Upon that René so lost himself in a sick dread that he was hardly conscious as he walked, and seemed to have been marvelously propelled from Hog Lane to Galt's Park. Linda was ready for him in a light muslin frock and an adorable little tip-tilted hat. He had never seen her so pretty. They decided to walk by way of Potter's Park to see the flowers. René could hardly get his words out, but he felt that he must do something to explain. "You may be disappointed, you know. It mayn't be all that you think it is." "Oh, but I have seen the outside of the house, and one knows what to expect. I mean, if you saw the outside of our house you'd know the inside was pretty much the same as hundreds of others. The curtains always give you away. And nearly all the houses on this side of Thrigsby are like yours. When I was at school I knew a girl who lived next door to you. And, of course, I'm excited because it is--don't you think--reassuring when you are fond of people to know that they have relations like the rest of the world." René's shyness, the delicacy of his feelings had forced upon her the use of the phrase, "fond of each other." For all the excitement she had roused in him he had never become possessive nor made any attempt to assert a monopoly. And one evening when she had flirted with M'Elroy at the tennis club he had left her to it, apparently not at all distressed, and subsequently he visited on her none of the jealousy she had expected. With M'Elroy her relationship had become nothing but jealousy, and she preferred René's diffidence to that. And also, as she had shaped René outwardly, so inwardly she hoped to mold him to her liking. M'Elroy was too conceited for that. "I promise you I shan't be disappointed," she said. "I want to ask you not to mind anything my father may say. He does talk so. I hoped he would not be in." "You dear silly, I shan't mind anything. I shall like it. I want to see how you live, and if I don't like anything it will only be the more wonderful that you are you." He gripped her arm very tight. She laughed though he hurt her. It was the first uninvited caress he had given her.