Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins’ cottage.  I got rid of the Perkins’ baby, as his Nose was bleeding—­but I had not slaped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction—­when I heard Carter coming down the walk.  He had called to see Leila, but she had gone to a beech dance and left him alone.  He never paid any attention to me when she was around, and I recieved him cooly.

“Hello!” he said.

“Well?” I replied.

“Is that the way you greet me, Bab?”

“It’s the way I would greet most any Left-over,” I said.  “I eat hash at school, but I don’t have to pretend to like it.”

“I came to see you.”

“How youthfull of you!” I replied, in stinging tones.

He sat down on a Bench and stared at me.

“What’s got into you lately?” he said.  “Just as you’re geting to be the prettiest girl around, and I’m strong for you, you—­you turn into a regular Rattlesnake.”

The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind Words had come recently.  I am compeled to confess that I wept, although I had not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones.

How could I posibly know that the chaste Salute of Eddie Perkins and my head on Carter Brooks’ shoulder were both plainly visable against the rising moon?  But this was the Case, especialy from the house next door.

But I digress.

Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat.

“Sit up here and tell me about it,” he said.  “I’m geting more scared every minute.  You are such an impulsive little Beast, and you turn the fellows’ heads so—­look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, or did you run away and get married to somone?”

I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No.  But it seemed a shame to spoil Things just as they were geting interesting.  So I said, through my tears: 

“Nobody understands me.  Nobody.  And I’m so lonely.”

“And of course you haven’t run away with anyone, have you?”

“Not—­exactly.”

“Bless you, Bab!” he said.  And I might as well say that he kissed me, because he did, although unexpectedly.  Sombody just then moved a Chair on the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter drew a long breath and got up.

“There’s somthing about you lately, Bab, that I don’t understand,” he said.  “You—­you’re mysterious.  That’s the word.  In a couple of Years you’ll be the real thing.”

“Come and see me then,” I said in a demure manner.  And he went away.

So I sat on my Bench and looked at the sea and dreamed.  It seemed to me that Centuries must have passed since I was a light-hearted girl, running up and down that beech, paddling, and so forth, with no thought of the future farther away than my next meal.

Once I lived to eat.  Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that.  The fires of Genius must be fed, but no more.