"It is pretty hard luck, isn't it? You may be sure of one thing. If I were not your brother I would be Barry Lapelle's most determined rival."
She did not laugh at this. On the contrary, her eyes clouded.
"The funny part of it is, Kenny, I have been wondering what would have happened if you had come here as a total stranger and not as my relation." Then she smiled whimsically. "Goodness knows poor Barry is having a hard enough time of it as it is, but what a time he would be having if you were some one else. You see, you are very good-looking, Kenny, and I am a very silly, frivolous, susceptible little goose."
"You are nothing of the kind," he exclaimed warmly, adding in some embarrassment, "except when you say that I am good-looking."
"And I have also been wondering how many girls have been in love with you," she went on archly; "and whether you have a sweetheart now,—some one you are engaged to. You needn't be afraid to tell me. I can keep a secret. Is there some one back in Kentucky or in the east who—"
"No such luck," whispered simple, honest Kenneth. "No one will have me."
"Have you ever asked anybody?" she persisted.
"No,—I haven't."
"Then, how do you know that no one will have you?"
"Well, of course, I—I mean to say I can't imagine any one caring for me in that way."