"You know, the minute I saw you--" he
added.
"Now, _don't_ tell me I'm pretty!" Julia begged, with another flashing
look.
"No--no!" the man exclaimed, discarding mere beauty with violence.
"Pretty! Lord! what does prettiness matter? Of course you're pretty, but
do you know what I said to myself the minute I saw you? I said, 'I'll
bet that little girl has _brains_!' You smile," said Mr. Hazzard, with
passionate earnestness, "but I'll swear to God I did!"
"Oh, you just want me to believe that!" scoffed Julia, dimpling.
What they said, however, mattered as little as what might be said by the
two occupants of a boat that was drifting swiftly toward rapids.
"Why do you think an unkind thing like that?" Carter asked
reproachfully.
"Was that unkind?" Julia countered innocently. At which Mr. Hazzard
observed irrelevantly, in a low voice:
"Do you know you're absolutely fascinating? Do you? You're just the kind
of little girl I want to know--to be friends with--to have for a pal!"
Julia was quite wise enough to know that whatever qualifications she
possessed for this pleasing position could hardly have made themselves
evident to Mr.
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