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"She's mean," was whispered around. "Perhaps teacher knows only the meanest girl would ever take Doro's place." Meanwhile two very miserable girls were crying their eyes sore in the back seat. "Oh, Doro!" sobbed Tavia, "to think you lost it on my account." "It was not on your account," wailed Dorothy, "but on account of an unreasonable teacher." "Hush! She'll hear you."
If things developed and Artois felt that they must with such a protagonist as the Marchesino a situation might arise in which Doro's enmity must come out into the open and be dealt with drastically. Till then was it not best to ignore it, to fall in with his apparent frivolity?
He is twenty-four, and I am what I am. He is quite unaware that there is any gulf between us. In every way he treats me as if I were twenty-four." "Is that refreshing or embarrassing?" "I find it generally refreshing. His family accepts the situation with perfect naivete. I am welcomed as Doro's chum with all the good-will in the world."
But this frankness was impossible to him, and as it was impossible he must allow Doro to suspect him of sordid infamies. He knew, of course, the Neapolitan's habitual disbelief in masculine virtue, and did not mind it. Then why should he mind Doro's laughing thought of himself as one of the elderly crew who cling to forbidden pleasures? Why should he feel sore, angry, almost insulted?
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