During the weeks which succeeded the merger of the New York street railways, Covington was more assiduous than ever in his attentions to Alice, yet, even with Allen’s jealous suggestions, the girl saw in them nothing more than a continuation of their previous relations.  His skill in manipulating her securities increased her admiration, and the incredible success filled her with joy.  She was bursting with enthusiasm, and longed for an opportunity to share her happiness at least with Eleanor; but since the first confidences with her, she had become convinced that her preceptor’s restrictions included Eleanor as well.

In spite of the care with which he selected the moment and the words, when Covington actually declared himself it came to Alice not only as a surprise, but as a distinct shock.  At first she could not believe him sincere, but he succeeded in convincing her on this point.  He interpreted her long silence and evident surprise as the natural expression of a young girl face to face with the most vital problem which ever comes to her.  As a matter of fact, had Alice analyzed her feelings, the compound would have proved to be made up in equal parts of gratification, astonishment, and a broken idol.  She was flattered that this man should really wish to marry her, she was amazed that his declaration did not arouse in her all those sentimental emotions which she had associated with a moment such as this; and she instinctively felt that he could not possibly be the great man she had considered him, to desire what he had asked.

“I thought you and I had decided that I was to be a business woman,” Alice said at last, questioningly.

“Only for the time being,” Covington smiled, well satisfied.  “That is all right as a pastime, and you shall indulge in it as much as you like, but Mrs. John Covington will have more of a position to live up to even than Miss Alice Gorham.”

“That’s just it,” she said, slowly.  “It doesn’t seem to me that I am ready to assume any ‘position,’ as you call it.  Until you and daddy gave me this chance to do something else besides dances and theatre-parties and all those things we girls fill our time with, I was drifting hopelessly.  This tiny bit of responsibility has been just the anchor I needed.  What I read means so much more to me, what people talk about is of increased interest because I am just that much more conversant with what is going on; and the dances and the theatre-parties are lots more fun too.  What you have asked, Mr. Covington, is enough to make any girl feel proud and happy, but—­I don’t believe I’m ready yet to give up my girlhood now when I am enjoying it most.”

“There need be no haste in your decision,” he said, graciously.

“Needn’t there?  Then you will give me a long time to think it over?”

“Not too long, I hope,” he answered, significantly.

“But, truly,” Alice’s pout was exceedingly becoming, “I don’t want to be married at all.  Why should I when I am so happy?”