Sylvia, as you know, had been taught to discuss the affairs of her heart in the language of military science. Continuing the custom, the fortress of her coquetry had withstood an onslaught which had brought dismay to the garrison, who had never before known what it was to be in real danger. In the hope of restoring confidence to the troops there was now undertaken a raid into the territory of perfectly innocent and defenseless neighbors.
The first victim was Charlie Peyton. He had implored one last opportunity to prove his devotion—being unable to imagine how his devotion could be of no interest to Sylvia. So the guests of the house party were treated to the amazing spectacle of this dignified and self-conscious youth standing for two hours in the crotch of an apple-tree. Meanwhile Sylvia went off for a walk with Malcolm McCallum; and when at last Charlie’s time was up, and he set out in search of her, he found his rival occupied in crawling on his knees the length of a splintery dock which ran out into the lake. Sylvia sat by, absorbed in a book, and when Charlie questioned her as to the meaning of this strange phenomenon, she replied that Mr. McCallum (known to us previously as “the Louisville dandy”) was probably experimenting with the creases in his trousers.
Dressing for luncheon and the trip home, Sylvia had a consultation with her friend Harriet. “Do you suppose I’m really in love?” was her question.
“With whom?” asked Harriet.
But Sylvia paid no heed to this feeble wit. “I don’t think he approves of me, Harriet. He thinks I’m shallow and vain—a trifler with hearts.”
“What would you have him think?” persisted the other.
“He isn’t like other men, Harriet. He makes me ashamed of myself. I think I ought to treat him differently.”
Whereat her friend became suddenly serious. “Look here, Sunny, don’t you lose your nerve! You stick to your game!”
“But suppose he won’t stand it?”
“Make him stand it! Take my advice, now, and don’t go trying experiments. You’ve learned one way, and you’re a wonder at it—don’t get yourself mixed up at the critical moment.”