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FLAMING

YOUTH

She crept away but paused at the door to say wistfully and sullenly: “Just the same, I think you might tell me what didn’t happen.” Late the next afternoon Fred Browning came to the house, having called up Constance at noon. Dee came down to him. “Is everything all right, Dee?” he asked anxiously. The girl nodded. “Yes. The family didn’t wake up. Ill send Con down right away.” But before

Constance

arrived, little Pat entered

side room where he was nervously waiting. at him solemnly, entreatingly, hesitatingly,

the

She looked then burst

out:

“Mr. Browning, will you tell me something?” Her earnestness amused him. “Why, of course,” he said, quite unsuspecting. “I always like to help the young to knowledge. But don’t make it too hard.” “What was it that might have happened to Con last night, that the girls wouldn’t tell me about?” He stared at her, completely aghast. “You young devil!” he breathed. Constance’s quick footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the inquirer was fain to flee, unsated of her curiosity. But she peered back, and her breath came quicker as she saw her pretty sister walk straight, eager, and unashamed into the man’s waiting arms. Pat deemed it the part of prudence to keep herself aloof the rest of the day. Later Fred Browning had a cocktail with Mr. Fentriss and a brief talk on the subject of Constance.

And so they were married.