“Y-y-yes,” said the girl doubtfully.

“Therefore, if we can breed a biplane dragonfly in sufficient numbers, we might solve the mosquito problem at small expense.”

“I don’t know much about science,” she began, “but I should hardly have supposed—­”

“It’s curious how nature varies the type of aviation,” he continued dreamily.  “Now, the pigeon is, of course, a Zeppelin; whereas the sea urchin is obviously a balloon; and the thistledown an undirigible—­”

“You’re making fun of me!” she accused, with sharp enlightenment.

“What else have you done to me ever since we met?” he inquired mildly.

“Now I am angry!  I shall go home at once.”

A second far-away plop! set a period to her decision.

“So shall I,” said he briskly.

“Does that signal mean hurry up?” she asked curiously.

“Well, it means that I’m wanted.  You go first.  When will you come again?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course.  I’m angry.  Didn’t I tell you that?  I don’t permit people to make fun of me.  Besides, you must come and see me next.  You owe me two calls.  Will you?”

“I—­I—­don’t know.”

“Afraid?”

“Rather.”

“Then you must surely come and conquer this cowardice.  Will you come to-morrow?”

“No; I don’t think so.”

Miss Brewster opened wide her eyes upon him.  She was little accustomed to have her invitations, which she issued rather in the manner of royal commands, thus casually received.  Had the offender been any other of her acquaintance, she would have dropped the matter and the man then and there.  But this was a different species.  Graceful and tactful he might not be, but he was honest.

“Why?” she said.

“I’ve got something more important to do.”

“You’re reverting to type sadly.  What is it that’s so important?”

“Work.”

“You can work any time.”

“No.  Unfortunately I have to eat and sleep sometimes.”

The implication she accepted quite seriously.

“Are you really as busy as all that?  I’m quite conscience-stricken over the time I’ve wasted for you.”

“Not wasted at all.  You’ve cheered me up.”

“That’s something.  But you won’t come to the city to be cheered up?”

“Yes, I will.  When I get time.”

“Perhaps you won’t find me at home.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Good-bye, then,” she laughed, “until your leisure day arrives.”

She climbed the rock, stepping as strongly and surely as a lithe animal.  At the top, the spirit of roguery, ever on her lips and eyes, struck in and possessed her soul.

“O disciple of science!” she called.

“Well?”

“Can you see me?”

“Not from here.”

“Good!  I’m a Voice again.  So don’t be timid.  Will you answer a question?”