"Angel and The Seraph. They don't like girls." Instantly I wondered why I had said that. Did I like girls? Not much. But I didn't want Angel interfering in this. He had better keep away.
"My father is a judge. He sends bad men to prison."
"My father"—I was very proud of him—"is a civil engineer. He's in South America building a railroad, so that's why we live with Mrs. Handsomebody. But some day he's coming back to make a home for us. When I grow up I shall be an engineer too, and build bridges over canyons."
"What's canyons? Hold Dorothea tighter."
I explained canyons at length.
"P'raps I'll take you with me," I added weakly.
She clapped her hands rapturously.
"Oh, what fun!" she gurgled. "I can keep house and hang my washing 'cross the canyon to dry!"
Frankly I did not relish the thought of my canyon's being thus desecrated. I determined never to allow her to do any such thing, but, at the moment I was willing to indulge her fancy.
"Yes," she prattled on, "I'll wheel Dorothea up and down the bridge and watch you work."
Now there was some sense in that. What man does not enjoy being admired while he does
[59]
