Suddenly he felt peculiarly at ease with her, as if he had always known her, as if she and he understood each other perfectly. "I'm afraid you'll find me stupid," he went on. "I don't know much about any of the things you're interested in."
"Perhaps I'm interested in more things than you imagine," said she. "My sister says I'm a fraud—that I really have a frivolous mind and that my serious look is a hollow pretense."
And so they talked on, not getting better acquainted but enjoying the realization of how extremely well acquainted they were. When he was gone, Madelene found that her father had been in for some time. "Didn't he ask for me?" she said to Walpurga.
"Yes," answered Walpurga. "And I told him you were flirting with
Arthur Ranger."
Madelene colored violently. "I never heard that word in this house before," she said stiffly.
"Nor I," replied Walpurga, the pink and white. "And I think it's high time—with you nearly twenty-two and me nearly twenty."
At dinner her father said: "Well, Lena, so you've got a beau at last. I'd given up hope."
"For Heaven's sake don't scare him away, father!" cried Walpurga.
"A pretty poor excuse," pursued the doctor. "I doubt if Arthur Ranger can make enough to pay his own board in a River Street lodging house."
"It took courage—real courage—to go to work as he did," replied
Madelene, her color high.