seriously; “he’s larger than you are, I think.” 

 Jack felt the blue heavens breaking up into thunderbolts for his head at this speech. 

 “But I’m way over six feet,” he said, his heart going heavily faster, even while he told himself that he might have known it, anyhow. 

 “He’s all of six feet two,” she said meditatively. “I do believe he’s even taller. I remember liking him at the first glance, just because he struck me as so royal looking.” 

 He was miserably conscious of acute distress. 

 “Do—do you mind my smoking?” he stammered. 

 (Might have known that, of course, there was bound to be someone like that.) 

 “Not at all,” she rejoined amiably. “I like the odor of cigarettes. Shall I stop a little, while you set yourself afire?” 

 “It isn’t necessary,” he said. “I can set myself afire under any circumstances.” 

 He lit a cigarette. 

 “Is he English?” he couldn’t help asking then. 

 “Yes,” she said; “I like the English.” 

 “You appear to like everything to-day.” He did not intend to seem bitter, but he did it unintentionally. 

 (Confounded luck some fellows have.) 

 “I do. I’m very well content to-day.” 

 He was silent, thinking. 

 “Well,” she queried, after a while. 

 He pulled himself together with an effort. 

 “I think perhaps it’s just as well,” he said. 

 “What is just as well?” 

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