"
"Good gracious, how can they help it?" "Well, you see, I'm
accustomed to my girl and boy friends, whom I've known for years.
But here, somehow, everybody seems more grown up and societyfied."
"How old are you?"
"It's my impression that that's a rude question, though I'm not
sure."
"It isn't, because you're not old enough to make it rude. Come,
how old?"
"Nineteen, please, sir."
"Well, that's quite old enough to drop boy and girl ways and
behave as a grown-up."
"But I don't want to," and Patty's adorable pout proved her words.
"That doesn't matter. Your 'reluctant feet' have to move on
whether they wish to or not. Are you bashful?"
"Sorta," and Patty put her finger in her mouth, with a shy simper.
"You're anything but bashful! You're a coquette!"
"Oh, no!" and Patty opened her eyes wide in horror. "Oh, kind sir,
DON'T say THAT!"
But Cromer paid no heed to her words; he was studying her face.
"I'm going to paint you," he announced, "and I shall call it
'Reluctant Feet.' Your head, with its aureole of curls; your wide
eyes, your baby chin--"
"Oh, Roger!" cried Patty, as young Farrington came toward her.
"What DO you think? Mr. Cromer is going to paint a picture of my
head and call it 'Reluctant Feet'! He says so.
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