defects as to mine. I said so, but he only answered, 'Really, you're not
pleasing me.' And, as he often says of his own predicaments--'What could
I do?' But I'm glad he persists in it."

"Why, if you resent it so?"

"Because, Aunt Bell, I must be quite--_quite_ certain that Allan is
funny. It would be dreadful to make a mistake. If only I could be
certain--positive--convinced--sure--that Allan is the funniest thing in
all the world--"

"It never occurred to me that Allan is funny." Aunt Bell paused for an
instant's retrospect. "Now, he doesn't joke much."

"One doesn't have to joke to be a joke, Aunt Bell."

"But what if he were funny? Why is that so important?"

"Oh, it's important because of the other thing that you know you know
when you know that."

"Mercy! Child, you should have a cup of cocoa or something before you
start off--really--"

The last long hatpin seemingly pierced the head of Nancy and she turned
from the glass to fumble on her gloves.

"Aunt Bell, if Allan tells me once more in that hurt, gentle tone that I
don't please him, I believe I shall be the freest of free women--ready
to live."