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"The Guests Of Hercules"

"
"Next week?" echoed Mary. "Shan't I see anything now? I thought Mr.
Carleton meant to go up in the air to-day."
"I hadn't thought of it, but I will if you like. That is, I'll try,"
said Carleton, modestly.
"I--oh, how I should love to go with you!" Mary exclaimed. "Can you
carry people?"
"One passenger at a time, yes. You wouldn't really like it, would you?"
he asked, flushing under the compliment of her trust in him, and
admiring her pluck. "You don't mean that you'd go up with me?"
"I would if you'd take me." Her eyes were shining once more. "It would
be--like all one's most marvellous dreams come true."
"You wouldn't be afraid?"
"Oh, no, not with you."
This was delicious flattery. Carleton promptly fell in love with Mary.
Not to have done so would have been base ingratitude. No woman had ever
paid him so great a compliment. He had thought her bewilderingly pretty
before. Now she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
"You're the bravest girl on earth!" he exclaimed, ardently.
"Better leave her on earth, then," Schuyler said dryly. "We need brave
women."
"There's no danger," Carleton protested with indignation. "Do you think
I'd take her, if I thought there were?"
"Not if you thought there were. And I don't say there is. But Miss
Grant's here without her people----"
"I have no people," Mary cut him short. "Because you can't count aunts,
can you, especially if they dislike you very much?"
Both men laughed.
"I must be your passenger," she said.


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