"Why not?"
He pulled Nellie Custis' ears. "One of them wasn't a nice sort of girl—not the kind that I should have cared to introduce to—you."
"Yet you cared to—kiss her?"
Randy flushed faintly. "I know how it looks to you. I hated it afterwards, but I couldn't marry a girl—like that——"
"Who was the other girl?"
For a moment he did not reply, then he said with something of an effort, "It was you, Becky."
"Me? When?" She turned on him her startled gaze.
"Do you remember at Christmas—oh, ten years ago—and your grandfather had a party for you. There was mistletoe in the hall, and we danced and stopped under the mistletoe——"
"I remember, Randy—how long ago it seems."