"Not altogether. Sit down over there by the little window, and if you will be very good I will show you something."
He obediently took the place assigned him, where the window seat ran along the small raised platform, and Linda produced the magazine. "There," she said, opening to a certain page. "And it is paid for," she added triumphantly.
Berkley read the lines through. "You have climbed into fame, haven't you?" he said. "Are you feeling very high and mighty? Would you like me to sit on the floor at your feet. It would be very easy on this platform."
She laughed. It was good to hear the old foolish manner of speech again. "No, I won't insist upon that, though I can't tell what I may require if this continues. Do you like my verses, Berk?"
"Yes, very much. I suppose they are really better than these. He took from his pocket-book a little clipping, 'The Marching Pines,' but I shall always care more for these. I shall never be quite so fond of any others, perhaps."
"Why?"
Berkley did not answer, but instead asked, "Did Jeffreys tell you of his determination not to follow up his claim?"
"Yes, he told me." Linda looked grave.
"It was generous of him, don't you think?"