CONSIDINE was married in May. For four months Badeau heard of him and Mamie only in a roundabout way. One day, toward the dose of September, the two men met on the road.

“Hello, Hunch,” said Bruce, “how are you?”

“All right. How’s yourself?”

“Fine. Why ain’t you been round to see us. We’re keeping house.”

“I dunno. Ain’t had much time.”

“How’re you getting along, anyhow, Hunch? How’s the old Dean?”

“First-class.”

“Well, say, come up and see us. Come to-night. Mamie was asking about you the other day.”

Badeau spent a long evening at Bruce’s cottage, and had a good time. A week later he went again. Through the autumn, as the weather grew heavy, and lake trips became more uncertain, he took to spending the evening with them as often as he could. Mamie was prettier than ever, with a new depth in her eyes, and Bruce appeared very well as the head of a household. They played cards a good deal, and talked about old times. After a while Hunch found it easy to drop in and take supper with them.

One evening late in October, when he came in to supper, he missed the usual cordiality. Mamie’s eyes were red and Bruce’s manner was strained. He left early and Bruce walked out with him, saying that a little walk would do him good.

“Say, Hunch,” he said, when they reached the sidewalk, “I don’t know whether you heard about it, but——”

“About what?”

“Well, it ain’t any of my feelings, Hunch, but you can’t help people talking. You see, there’s some folks that don’t understand things, and they’re talking a little, you know, about your being around to the house so much—r-” They walked on, both silent.

“Of course, Hunch, it ain’t what I think, you see that.”

Again he waited for a reply.

“I’ll tell you, Hunch, Maine and I’ve been talking it over. She’s a good friend of yours, and she says if you stop coming, just because people talk, she’ll never forgive you. She’s right, too. And we was thinking, mebbe we’d have one of the girls around. Say, ain’t there nobody you like pretty well, Hunch? There’s Jess Bartlett, now. She’s an awful nice girl. And she’s stuck on you, Hunch. She’s Jim Bartlett’s sister, you know. He’s on the life-saving crew. Marne’s been talking with her, and she says she’ll come around with you tomorrow night, if you’ll go get her. Will you?”

Hunch wanted to say no, but he looked around at Bruce, and some of his anger left him when he saw how eager and friendly was Bruce’s face. So he replied: “Guess so.”

Hunch spent a sleepless night, and arose with the determination never to go to Bruce’s again. He continued to decide the question all day from different points of view. In the evening, however, a little earlier than he was expected, he called at Jess Bartlett’s house.

Jess Bartlett was an attractive girl, full of health and spirits. She admired Hunch’s bigness and strength, and made such an effort to be agreeable that before they had finished the long walk to Bruce’s house, they felt pretty well acquainted. The evening that followed was different from those that Hunch had been spending at Bruce’s. There was more gaiety and brightness. Jess knew that she was in a sense on parade, and, as Mamie confided to Hunch, she “kept things stirred up.” They played some games that Jess explained to them, and then Mamie made molasses candy, and an impromptu candy-pull took place in the kitchen. Once Jess slipped Hunch’s scarfpin from his tie, and Bruce and Mamie laughed knowingly at Hunch’s clumsy efforts to take it away from her. Finally she fled into the corner and held the pin behind her with both hands. He hesitated before her and Bruce called, “Oh, Hunch, you’re slow,” whereupon Mamie blushed and laughed, and Jess blushed and tossed her head. So Hunch put both arms around her, but she struggled for some time before he got the pin away from her. Then she dropped into a chair, flushed and excited, her hair—a rich auburn—tumbling about her face; and Mamie whispered to Hunch, “Ain’t she pretty, though?”

The night was dark, and on the way home Jess slipped her hand through his arm. Now, that they were away from the others, Hunch was embarrassed.

“I never knew you were like this,” she said.

“How do you mean?”

“Why, I don’t know. I’ve always heard that you didn’t like girls; that you were—you know—kind of horrid.”

“I haven’t liked very many girls.”

“I’ll tell you something, if you won’t tell. You won’t think it’s funny, will you?”

“Sure not.”

“Well, I used to be afraid of you.”

“Ain’t you now?”

“No—that is, not very much.”

“What makes you afraid of me?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She danced a few steps before him on the walk. “Come on, don’t be so pokey. Can you dance?”

“No, not very much.”

“Oh, you’ve got to learn to dance, or I won’t like you a bit. I’ll tell you, I’ll teach you, some of the nights when we don’t go over to Marne’s. That’ll be fun—don’t you think?”

Hunch nodded, and caught her arm as she whirled by him, and they walked home soberly, talking about Bruce and Mamie and how happy they seemed to be. At the door Hunch said “goodnight,” and started away. She stood on the steps.

“Say,” she called softly, as he opened the gate, “you’ve got the key.”

Hunch came back, a little confused, and took her key from his pocket. He tried to unlock the door, and they both laughed when he got the key stuck in the lock.

“You’re awful clumsy,” she said, and in trying to help him her hand rested for a moment on his.

“My, your hands are cold,” she said.

He took hold of her hand and replied, “Mine ain’t so cold as yours.”

“Yes, it is.” She drew hers away slowly, and opened the door. They both laughed. Jess leaned back against the door.

“Say,” she said, “when are you coming around again?”

“I dunno. When do you think?”

“Marne asked me if you were coming there to-morrow night.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes, if you do.”

“All right, I’ll be ready.”

In a week it was generally known that Hunch Badeau was “going with Jess Bartlett.” Bruce and Mamie poked fun at them, and looked mischievous whenever they were mentioned. Mamie used to enjoy having them at the house, and would sit at one side and laugh quietly all the evening at Hunch’s awkward ways and Jess’s blushes and shy glances. Sometimes, if they were left together in the living room, Bruce would make a great noise outside the door before he came in, and would pretend not to see their conscious glances, talking loudly all the while as if to cover their embarrassment. And as Jess really liked Hunch and Hunch was drifting blindly with the current, all these doings magnified their common interest, and gradually made it easier for them to be alone together, and to talk about themselves and their likings and hopes. Hunch grew more careful about his appearance, and spent less time than formerly with the wharf men and the elevator gang.

One evening, about the middle of November, Hunch went around to the Bartlett’s as usual. Jess was a little embarrassed about something. When Hunch said, “Shall we go down to Bruce’s?” she hesitated.

“Guess we hadn’t better,” she said. “Marne isn’t very well.”

“All right. What’ll we do?”

“I don’t care. Do you want to stay here? There’s nobody home to-night. I’ll tell you, you can have a dancing lesson.”

“Guess I won’t be much good at it. I don’t believe I can learn.”

“Oh, yes, you can. You’ll do beautifully. Now stand up.”

“Hunch felt awkward as she showed him the steps, and then tried to guide him about the room.

“I’m an awful fool,” he said.

“You ain’t either. Here, you guide me.”

Hunch hesitated and looked at her. “Take hold of my hand. Put your arm around—oh, pshaw! it’s just dancing; don’t be so stupid. Not way off there. Hold me closer or we can’t dance at all. Oh, you don’t understand.” Hunch gripped her doggedly. She was leaning a little, trying to watch his feet, and as they stood there, her hair brushing against her shoulder and a slight blush on her forehead, he felt that he was losing his self-control. Then he found that he did not care, and he made no effort to hold himself in check.

“Now, one, two, three—one, two, three. Not that way. Try it again. One, two, three—you don’t get it, somehow.”

Hunch was standing still, holding her firmly. She was so small in his grasp, he felt so strong and he could so easily lift her from the floor with his one arm that he was almost tempted to try it. She was looking down, and he could see the tip of an ear and a flushed cheek below the tangle of hair. Then for a moment she went on rapidly with her instructions, but her voice faltered, and stopped. They stood for a time without moving, then Hunch drew her a little closer and grasped her hand more firmly. She frowned and looked up, but she could not hide the color on her face, and the smiling strength in Hunch’s eyes overbore the half-hearted disapproval in hers.

Hunch, with his other arm, drew her head against his shoulder. He was happy in a way that he had never before understood, for she trusted him, and he was strong and would protect her.