"
"Do you want me to?" persisted Orde.
She began gently to laugh, quite to herself, as though enjoying a
joke entirely within her own personal privilege.
"You are so direct and persistent and boy-like," said she presently.
"Now if you'll be very good, and not whisper to the other little
pupils, I'll tell you how they do such things usually." She sat up
straight from the depths of her chair, her white, delicately
tapering forearms resting lightly on her knees. "Young men desiring
to communicate with young ladies do not ask them bluntly. They make
some excuse, like sending a book, a magazine, a marked newspaper, or
even a bit of desired information. At the same time, they send
notes informing the girl of the fact. The girl is naturally
expected to acknowledge the politeness. If she wishes the
correspondence to continue, she asks a question, or in some other
way leaves an opening. Do you see?"
"Yes, I see," said Orde, slightly crestfallen. "But that's a long
time to wait. I like to feel settled about a thing. I wanted to
know."
She dropped back against the cushioned slant of her easy chair, and
laughed again.
"And so you just up and asked!" she teased.
"I beg your pardon if I was rude," he said humbly.
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