"
I was quite speachless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner
clothes and bareheaded.
Oh flutering Heart, be still. Oh Pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES!
"Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the latice.
"In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do you'll
vanish. And I have somthing to tell you."
I could hardly beleive my ears.
"You see," he went on, "I think you must move that Bench."
"Bench?"
"You seem to be so very popular," he said. "And of course I'm only a
transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers may be
on the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the bench. And--the
Moon rises beyond it."
I was silent with horor. So that was what he thought of me. Like all the
others, he, to, did not understand. He considered me a Flirt, when my
only Thoughts were serious ones, of imortality and so on.
"You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you until I
saw you climbing the latice. Then I knew you were still young enough to
take a friendly word of Advise."
I got down then and stood before him. He was magnifacent. Is there
anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expance of dress
shirt? I think not.
But he was staring at me.
"Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I
thought you were a little girl."
"That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm seventeen, but
I shall be a mere Child until I come out.
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