"Dick! I can't have you go. I can't bear it." Tony's hand crept into
his. "Something dreadful might happen to you," she wailed.

He pressed her hand, grateful for her real trouble about him and for
her caring.

"Oh no, dear. Nothing dreadful will happen to me. You mustn't worry,"
he soothed.

"But I do. I shall. How can I help it? It is just as if Larry or Ted were
going. It scares me."

Dick drew away his hand suddenly.

"For heaven's sake, Tony, please don't tell me again that I'm just like
Larry and Ted to you. It is bad enough to know it without your rubbing it
in all the time. I can't stand it--not to-night."

"Dick!" Tony was startled, taken aback by his tone. Dick rarely let
himself go like that.

In a moment he was all contrition.

"Forgive me, Tony. I'm sorry I said that. I ought to be thankful you care
that much, and I am. It is dear of you and I do appreciate it."

"Oh me!" sighed Tony. "Everything I do or say is wrong. I wish I did care
the other way for you, Dicky dear. Truly I do. It would be so much nicer
and simpler than caring for Alan," she added naïvely.