"I don't want to stand a moment longer. I want to sit with you in the buggy. Please don't be so—so old!"
Fran laughed out musically, but immediately declared: "I laughed because you are unexpected; it doesn't mean I like you any better. I hate friendship that shows itself only in private. Mr. Chameleon, I like people to show their true colors."
"I am not Mr. Chameleon, and I want to sit in your buggy."
"Well, then get in the very farthest corner. Now look me in the eyes."
"And oh, Fran, you have such eyes! They are so marvelously—er— unfriendly."
"I'm glad you ended up that way. Now look me in the eyes. Suppose you should see the school-board sailing down the road, Miss Sapphira thrown in. What would you do?"
"What should I do?"
"Hide, I suppose," said Fran, suddenly rippling.
"Then you look me in the eyes and listen to me," he said impressively. "Weigh my words—have you scales strong enough?"
"Put 'em on slow and careful."