"You'll be so popular."
"Oh, that! I'm not sure, Henry. I'm not beautiful."
He jumped at that, and almost turned round.
"Not beautiful!" he said. "You're—you're the loveliest thing that ever lived, and you know it."
It began to look to me as if he wouldn't help after all. There was a sort of huskiness in his voice, a—Oh, well, you know. I began on the plan, however.
"You'll see me, all right," I said. "I'll have other friends, of course. I hope so anyhow. But when one thinks who and what they are——"
"Good gracious, Kit! What are you driving at?"
"I'm young," I said. "I know that. But I'm not ignorant. And a really nice girl with ideals——"
"I'll have to get up," he said suddenly. "I'll stand with my back to you, if you insist, but I'll have to get up. What's all this about ideals?"
"You know very well," I put in with dignity. "If every time I meet a nice man people come to me with stories about him, or mother and father warn me against him, what am I to do?"