The bachelor eyed her narrowly.
"I guess I will," he said finally. "She seems more interesting—now that you've explained her."
The widow stopped in the middle of a paragraph and looked up.
"And by Jove!" went on the bachelor reminiscently, turning to the window again, "she did look dreamy in a sunbonnet and that little short skirt this morning. She has adorable feet, you know."
The widow closed her book with a sharp snap, keeping her fingers between the pages.
"I know, Mr. Travers; but how did you know?"
"I looked at them," confessed the bachelor frankly, "and her ankles—"
The widow's mouth closed in a straight line.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Travers," she remarked frigidly, "that you are not a fit companion for a young girl like Ethel."
"I'm not equal to her," grinned the bachelor.