"Funny little thing, isn't it?"
"An excellent servant, Miss—"
"Look out, there goes your lid again! I'll get it—my legs are swifter than yours!" cried the tall athlete in petticoats, and off she sailed in pursuit.
"You need some one to chase your hat for you, Mr. Hamshaw," said the short one airily.
"Are you going our way?" asked the other, with a smile that could have led him to perdition.
"To the end of the earth," he murmured gallantly.
For the next ten minutes he walked on air. His heart was so light that it bobbed up and down like a fisherman's cork. He was not long in discovering that the tall one was Mame and the short one Lou—short for Marie and Louise, they explained on request!
"I see a good many boxes of flowers going up to your apartment," ventured Mr. Hamshaw, quite out of breath.
"Every day, and sometimes in between," said Marie.
"Ah, it's so nice to be popular!" he chirped. "And—and you can't blame the men, either, you know."