[157]

“He’s a dear boy. He’s very young yet, only twenty-three.”

“And eighteen from twenty-three leaves five,” teased Winthrop. “I’ve heard, I think, that ten is the ideal disparity in years for purposes of marriage, but doubtless five isn’t to be sneezed at.”

Holly’s smooth cheeks reddened a little.

“A girl ought to marry a man much older than herself,” she said, decisively.

“Oh! Then Julian won’t do?”

“I haven’t decided,” Holly laughed. “Maybe. He’s nice. I wonder if you’ll like him. Will you try to, please? He—he’s awfully down on Northerners, though.”

“That’s bad,” said Winthrop, seriously. “Perhaps he won’t approve of me. Do you think I’d better run away over Sunday? I might go out to visit Colonel Byers; he’s asked me.”

“Silly!” said Holly. “He won’t eat you!”

“Well, that’s comforting. I’ll stay, then. The dislike of Northerners seems to[158] be a strong trait in your family, Miss Holly.”

[158]

“Oh, some Northerners are quite nice,” she answered, with a challenging glance.

“I wonder,” he asked, with intense diffidence, “I wonder—if I’m included among the quite nice ones?”

“What do you think, Mr. Winthrop?”

“Well, I’ve always thought rather well of myself until I came to Corunna. But now that I have learned just how poor a lot Northerners are, I find myself rather more modest.”

Winthrop sighed depressedly.

“I’ll change it,” said Holly, her eyes dancing. “I’ll say instead that one Northerner is very nice.”

“You said ‘quite nice’ before.”

“That just shows that I like you better every minute,” laughed the girl.

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