"N-o; if to have an affinity means to have a very dear friend, whom one trusts, and whom one desires to make happy—"
"You speak as if you had such a friend in mind," he hazarded.
"I have," she replied simply.
"Happy man!" he sighed.
"I referred to my St. Bernard dog."
"Oh!" Protracted silence. "No use," he drawled. "My pride will not let me enter the lists with a St. Bernard."
"That is not pride, but modesty," she asserted, and laughed. Her laughter reminded Horton of liquid sunshine, melted pearls, and sparkling cascades.
IDA MANSFIELD WILSON,
in According to Confucius.
NOVEMBER 14.