awkward little Russian girl whom she had
taken into her work-room had dropped a flat-
iron on Lena's toe. On the table beside her
there was a basket of early summer flowers
which the Pole had left after he heard of the
accident. He always managed to know what
went on in Lena's apartment.

Lena was telling me some amusing piece of
gossip about one of her clients, when I inter-
rupted her and picked up the flower basket.

"This old chap will be proposing to you
some day, Lena."

"Oh, he has -- often!" she murmured.

"What! After you've refused him?"

"He doesn't mind that. It seems to cheer
him to mention the subject. Old men are like
that, you know. It makes them feel impor-
tant to think they're in love with somebody."

"The Colonel would marry you in a minute.
I hope you won't marry some old fellow; not
even a rich one."

Lena shifted her pillows and looked up
at me in surprise. "Why, I'm not going to
marry anybody. Didn't you know that?"

"Nonsense, Lena. That's what girls say,
but you know better. Every handsome girl
like you marries, of course."

[[328]]

p327 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p328w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p329

v?