Finally a sauntering young man wheeled suddenly to catch her very close to his heels.
"Say," said he, grinning at her, "I've walked twice around this triangle to see if you were really following me. What's the object?"
"It's--it's your coat," explained Jeanne, turning very crimson under her dusky skin.
"My coat! What's the matter with my coat?"
"What! Isn't it stylish enough to suit you?"
"It's the _seams_. I'm--I'm using them for a pattern."
"Ah, I see. Behold the lady tailor, planning a suit of clothes for her husband."
"I _haven't_ any husband," denied Jeanne, indignantly. "I'm too young to be married. But I'm awfully glad to see the _front_ of your coat. I've seen a great many backs; but it's harder to get a good look at fronts. Good-by."
"Queer little kid!" said the young man, pausing to watch Jeanne's sudden flight down the street. "Pretty, too, with those big black eyes. Looks like a French child."
In her flight, Jeanne overtook a boy of about her own height, but far from her own size. He was stout and he puffed as he toiled up the hill. Where had she seen that plump boy? Was it--yes, it _was_ the very boy she had pulled out of the lake, that pleasant day in May, when the lake was still cold. What _should_ she do if that grateful boy were to thank her, right there in the street! Having passed him, she paused irresolutely to look at him. After all, if he wished to thank her, he might as well have a chance to get it over.
But Jeanne needn't have been alarmed. Roger glanced at her, turned bright scarlet, and dashed into the nearest shop. Jeanne, eying the window, wondered what business a boy could possibly have in that particular place. So did Roger after he got inside. It was a hair-dresser's shop for ladies. He bolted out, tore past a bright pink dress, and plunged into a tobacco shop. That at least was a safe harbor for a _man_.
"I guess," said Jeanne, surprised at Roger's sudden agility, "he didn't know me in these clothes. Next time I'll speak to him."
That night, Jeanne asked her father to try on the old coat, in order that she might compare it with those she had seen. He slipped it on and turned so that she might view it from all sides.
"I'm afraid, Daddy," said she, sorrowfully, "that none of the _best_ coats are quite like yours. You have _more_ seams, closer together and not so straight. And your tails are longer. And you fold back differently in front."