"
He was red and stammering. As they shook hands emotion made them
speechless. He stumbled awkwardly as he turned to leave, became
still more hotly self-conscious when he saw the grin on the
faces of the group of loungers at a packing case near the curb.
Susan did not see the loafers, did not see anything distinctly.
Her feet sought the uneven brick sidewalk uncertainly, and the
blood was pouring into her cheeks, was steaming in her brain,
making a red mist before her eyes. She was glad he had left her.
The joy of being with him was so keen that it was pain. Now she
could breathe freely and could dream--dream--dream. She made
blunder after blunder in working over the accounts with her
uncle, and he began to tease her.
"You sure are in love, Brownie," declared he.
Her painful but happy blush delighted him.
"Tell me all about it?"
She shook her head, bending it low to hide her color.
"No?. . . Sometime?"
She nodded. She was glancing shyly and merrily at him now.
"Well, some hold that first love's best. Maybe so. But it seems
to me any time's good enough. Still--the first time's mighty fine
eh?" He sighed. "My, but it's good to be young!" And he patted
her thick wavy hair.
It did not leak out until supper that Sam was coming. Warham
said to Susan, "While Ruth's looking out for Artie, you and I'll
have a game or so of chess, Brownie." Susan colored violently.
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