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Show 336 !lngrp '!Romeo Gli1>1Rose ant> Sfll>er Romeo, having only the day before attained his maturity, had taken unto himself the mas~ culine privilege of getting angry at someone else for what he himself had done. He was furious with Juliet, though he did not trouble himself to ask why. "The idea," he muttered, ''of her criticising Isabel ! " His wounded sensibilities impelled him to walk past the Bernard house, very slowly, two or three times, but there was no one in sight. He went to the post-office as a mere matter of habit; there was seldom any mail for the Crosbys except on the first of the month, when the lawyer's formal note, "enclosing remittance," came duly to hand. Nobody seemed to be around- there was nothing to do. It would have been natural to go back home, but he was too angry for that, and in· wardly vowed to stay away long enough to bring ] uliet to her senses. He recalled the night he had called upon Isabel and had not reached home until late. He remembered the torrent of tears and Juliet's cry: "Oh, Romie! Romie! I don't care where you 've been as long as I 've got you back ! " It pleased his masculine sense of su· periority to know that he had power over a woman's tears-to make them come or go, as he chose. He sauntered slowly toward Kent's, thinking that he might while away an hour or two there. ""!tears, 11lle "!tears" It was a long time until midnight, and there seemed to be nothing to do but to Sit and wait. He could ask about the car and whether it was all right now. If Doctor Jack could run it, maybe they could go out together for a little spin. It would be nice to go by his own house and never even turn his head. And, if they could get Isabel to go, too, it would teach Juliet a much-needed lesson. He had nearly reached his destination when he came upon the picture of Beauty in Distress. Isabel sat at the roadside, leaning against a tree, sobbing. Romeo gave a long, low whistle of astonishment. "Say," he called, cheerfully, " what 's wrong?" Isabel looked up, wiped her eyes, and began to weepmore earnestly. Though Juliet's tears had moved him to anger and disdain, Isabel's grief roused all his chivalry. He sat down beside her and tried to take her handkerchief away from her eyes. "Don't," he said, softly. " What 's the matter?" "Oh," sobbed 'Isabel, "I 'm the most miser· able girl in the whole world. Nobody wants me! " "What makes you say that? " demanded Romeo. "Look here, if you 'II tell me who 's been making you cry, I '11--" He did not finish the sentence, but his tone indicated that dire misfortune would be visited 337 |