“I say, Betty, you’re absolutely prettier than ever,” her brother exclaimed, holding her a little off from him and surveying her critically; and then he seemed to remember his friend’s existence, and, turning toward him, announced proudly: 

 “My sister Bertha.” 

 Jack was standing up now and thinking how lovely her eyes were just at that instant when they were meeting his for the first time, thinking much else too. Thinking that Monday was only two days away (hang it!); thinking that such a smile was never known before; thinking that he had years ahead at college; thinking that the curl on her forehead was simply distracting (whereas all other like curls were horrid); thinking that he might cut college and— 

 “My chum, Jack Denham,” Burnett continued, proving in the same instant how rapidly the mind may work since his friend had compassed his encyclopedia of sentiment and probability between the two halves of a formal introduction. 

 “Oh, I’m very glad to meet you, Mr. Denham,” she said, putting out her hand—and he took and held it just long enough to realize that he really was holding it, before she took it away to keep for her own again. “I’ve often heard of you, and often wished I might know you.” 

 “I’m awfully glad to hear you say that,” he said, “and if I should have the royal luck to be next to you at dinner, it doesn’t seem to me that I shall have the strength to keep from telling you why.” 

 She clapped her hands at this, just as a very little girl might have done. 

 “If that is so, I hope that they will put you next to me at dinner,” she said gayly; “but if they don’t, you’ll tell me some other time, won’t you? I’m always so interested in what people have to tell me about myself.” 

 Burnett began to laugh. 

 “Jack,” he said, “I see that we’d better have a clear and above-board understanding right in the beginning and so I’ll just tell you that this sister of mine, who appears so guileless, is the very worst flirt ever. She looks honest, but she can’t tell the truth to save her neck. She means well, but she drives folks to suicide just for fun. She’d do anything for anybody in general, but when it’s a case of you individually she won’t do a thing to you, and you must heed my words and be forewarned and forearmed from now on. Mustn’t he, Betty?” 

 At this the sister laughed, 

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