"I know your brother and Mr.
Dunn." He noted a light dawn in her eyes.

"In fact, I played with them on the same team--at football, you know." "Oh!" cried the girl, relief and welcome in her voice, "I know you, Mr.Martin, quite well.

I know all about you, and what a splendid quarter-back you are." Here she gave him both her hands, which Mr.
Martin took in a kind of dream, once more plunged into the mazes of another and more perplexing problem, viz., Was it her lips with that delicious curve to them?
or her eyes so sunny and brown (or were they brown ?) with that alluring, bewitching twinkle?
or was it both lips and eyes that gave to the smile with which she welcomed him its subtle power to make his heart rise and choke him as it never had been known to do in the most strenuous of his matches?
"I'm awfully glad," he heard himself say, and her voice replying, "Oh, yes! Allan has often and often spoken of you, Mr.Martin." Mr.Martin immediately became conscious of a profound and grateful affection to Allan, still struggling, however, with the problem which had been complicated still further by the charm of her soft, Highland voice.

He was on the point of deciding in favour of her voice, when on her face he noted a swift change from glad welcome to suspicion and fear, and then into her sunny eyes a sudden leaping of fierce wrath, as in those of a lioness defending her young.
"Why do you look so ?" she cried in a voice sharp and imperious.

"Is it my brother--?
Is anything wrong ?" The shock of the change in eyes and voice brought Martin quite to himself.
"Wrong?
Not a bit," he hastened to say, "but just the finest thing in the world.