"I—I never have seen you before, have I?" she asked, with a secretive attempt to take a good look at him.
"You can search me," he replied, staring at her, as if fascinated by her wealth of figure. "If I had seen you before, I have a remote suspicion that I should remember you. I don't think it would be easy to forget you."
"You flatter me," she said softly.
"Do I? Well, I meant every word of it. Will you pardon me for being a wee bit personal? Are there many young ladies in these parts that are as—as—corpulent, or fat, or whatever you want to call it—that is, are you any plumper than the average?"
"I have been told that I am."
"Once more pardon me, but have you done anything for it?"
"For what?" she asked, considerably surprised.
"I wouldn't have mentioned it, only I think I can give you some good tips. I had a Cousin Flora who was troubled the same way. About the time she went to Smith College she got kind of careless with herself, used to eat a lot of candy and never take any exercise, and she got to be an awful looking thing. If you'll cut out the starchy foods and drink nothing but Kissingen, and begin skipping the rope every day, you'll be surprised how much of that you'll take off in a little while. At first you won't be able to skip more than twenty-five or fifty times a day, but you keep at it and in a month you can do your five hundred. Put on plenty of flannels and wear a sweater. And I'll show you a dandy exercise. Put your heels together this way,"—and he stood in front of her,—"and try to touch the floor with your fingers—so!"—illustrating. "You won't be able to do it at first, but keep at it, and it'll help a lot. Then, if you will lie flat on your back every morning, and work your feet up and down——"
She had listened, at first in utter amazement. Now her timid coquettishness was giving way to anger.
"What are you trying to tell me?" she asked.