Ethel Morton's Holidays

by Mabell S. C. Smith

WEST POINT

Ethel Blue gave Gertrude Merriam's message to Edward Watkins who was as much puzzled by it as she had been.

"What does she mean?" he asked. "Does she care for me or doesn't she?"

"She doesn't know herself. I asked her."

Edward whistled a long, soft whistle.

"Aren't girls the queerest things ever made!" he ejaculated in wonder.

"I don't think it's queer," defended Ethel. "First, it was all guesswork with her because you never had told her that you cared. And then she was angry at your having talked about her when you hadn't talked to her. Her feelings were hurt badly. And now she doesn't know what she does feel."

"She isn't strong against Oklahoma, anyway. I guess I'll accept that offer."

Ethel Blue nodded.

"I want to tell you one thing more before you go," she said. "I haven't told any one a word about this, even Ethel Brown. It's the first thing in all my life I haven't told Ethel Brown."