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 "Yes, I shall,"; whispered the girl. "I shall come creeping very humbly, if you want me. And you do want me, don't you? Oh, please advise me. Oh, please play you are my Father or my Big Brother and advise me to marry you." Drew laughed in spite of himself. "Play I was your Father or your Big Brother?" Mimicry was his one talent. "Play I was your Father or your Big Brother and advise you to marry me?"

Instantly his fine, straight brows came beetling down across his eyes in a fierce paternal scrutiny. Then, quick as a wink, he had rumpled his hair and stuck out his chest in a really startling imita tion of Big Brother's precious, pompous impor tance. But before Ruth could clap her hands his face flashed back again into its usual keen, sad gravity, and he shook his head. "Yes," he de liberated, "perhaps if I truly were your Father or your Brother, I really should advise you to marry me not because I amount to anything and am worth it, but because I honestly believe that I should be good to you and I know that Aleck Reese would n't be. But if I'm to advise you in my own personal capacity no, Ruthy, I don't want to marry you !"

"What? What?" Staggering from the desk, she turned and faced him, white as her dress, blanched to her quivering lips.