"
"I know it. I've been a perfect little idiot." Connie was sobbing now
on Miss Lady's shoulder. "The first time I saw him he'd just gotten
home from Europe. He was playing at a concert. Everybody said he was a
genius, and his eyes were so wonderful, and I had never seen anybody
like him. The more he snubbed me the crazier I got about him. It
wasn't until Cousin Don came back that I saw him as he really is."
Miss Lady patted the heaving shoulders, but said nothing.
"And the very minute," Connie continued tempestuously, "that I began
to feel differently, Gerald began to like me. He has worked himself up
to a terrible pitch, and doesn't want me out of his sight for a
minute. I feel as if I'd been living on chocolate creams for three
months!"
"Connie!" Miss Lady took the tear-stained face between her hands. "I'm
glad it isn't Gerald. I'm glad from the bottom of my heart, but are
you sure it isn't somebody else?"
Connie's blue eyes, never very steadfast, shifted uneasily, and Miss
Lady went on earnestly:
"Are you quite sure you aren't doing just what you did before, getting
infatuated, and making yourself miserable over some one who doesn't
care for you?"
"But he does!" burst out Connie indignantly; "he cares for me more
than for anybody in the world!"
"How do you know?"
"He's told me so! There--I oughtn't to have told! I swore I wouldn't
until after the trial.
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