This irratated me, although
glad they are small. So I bought him a gardenia to wear from a
flour-seller, but as the flour-seller refused a check, he had to pay for
it.
In exchange he gave me his Frat pin to wear.
"You know what that means, don't you, Bab?" he said, in a low and
thriling tone. "It means, if you wear it, that you are my--well, you're
my girl."
Although thriled, I still retained my practacality.
"Not exclusively, Tom," I said, in a firm tone. "We are both young, and
know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet."
He looked at me with a searching glanse.
"I'll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying around, Bab," he
said savigely. "You're that sort. All the fellows are sure to be crasy
about you. And I don't intend to be an Also-ran."
"Perhaps," I observed, in my most dignafied maner. "But no one has ever
tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the Other Sex have always
treated me with respect."
I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on the pavment.
It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start right.
But I was troubled and DISTRAIT during dinner, which consisted of mutton
and custard, which have no appeal for me owing to having them to often
at school. For I had, although not telling an untruth, allowed Tom to
think that I had a dozen or so Frat pins, although I had none at all.
Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman can do when
in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with Gile? In other words,
to use her intellagence against brute force? I fear so.
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