His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. Naturally he was a member of the National Honor Society and a straight A student on the Honor Roll.
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