And besides, you know, Czar told us that it was all right!" The blue eyes shone through a bright mist as she answered the man's kindly words.

"You _are_ good, Mr.Lagrange.And all the time it was really _you_ of whom I was so afraid." "Why me, more than my friend ?" he asked, regarding her thoughtfully.
She colored a little under his searching gaze, but answered with that childlike frankness that was so much a part of her winsome charm, "Why, because your friend is an _artist_--I thought _he_ would be sure to understand.

I knew, of course, that you were the famous author; everybody talks about your living here." She seemed to think that her words explained.
"You mean that you were afraid of me because I am famous ?" he asked doubtfully.
"Oh no," she answered, "not because you are famous.

I mean--I was not afraid of your _fame_," she smiled.
"And now," said the novelist decisively, "you must tell me at once--do you read my books ?" He waited, as though much depended upon her answer.
The blue eyes were gazing at him with that wide, unafraid look as she answered sadly, "No, sir.

I have tried, but I can't.