''
Mildred was so interested that she was excited. What
strange freak was coming?
``You never could guess,'' pursued Mrs. Belloc,
complacently. ``I took my sunshade and went out, all got
up to kill. And I walked along the road until I saw
the old man's buggy coming with him in it. Then I
gave my ankle a frightful wrench. My! How it
hurt!''
``What a pity!'' said Mildred sympathetically.
``What a shame!''
``A pity? A shame?'' cried Mrs. Belloc, laughing.
``Why, my dear, I did it a-purpose.''
``On purpose!'' exclaimed Mildred.
``Certainly. That was my game. I screamed out
with pain--and the scream was no fake, I can tell
you. And I fell down by the roadside on a nice grassy
spot where no dust would get on me. Well, up comes
the old skinflint in his buggy. He climbed down and
helped me get off my slipper and stocking. I knew
I had him the minute I saw his old face looking at that
foot I had fixed up so beautifully.''
``How DID you ever think of it?'' exclaimed Mildred.
``Go and teach school for ten years in a dull little
town, my dear--and look in the glass every day and
see your youth fading away--and you'll think of most
anything.
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