Cherry-red Pyjamas "We were destined for each other,' he breathed as he took her in his arms." penny sighed blissfully and gazed at her slim ankle. Cherry-red satin pyjamas (her sister's) shimmered about her gracefully. A bowl of apples was placed conveniently near the porch swing where she lounged. Penny carefully closed the book and took another enormous bite of apple. Some day she would find her ideal man, her Prince Charming. He would corae riding up on his magnificent white charter, and he would say—-- "Hiya, babe, going to a circus?" Penny, her dream castle shattered, glanced up wrathfully at the chubby youth, who sat grinning in a sputtering red and green car. Hmph! Some magnificent charger- an antiquated chicken coop on wheels! "I should say not! You just don't appreciate art!'' she snapped. Porky Lee realized sadly that he must have made the wrong approach. That was the trouble with women. You never could tell how they were going to act. He tried again. "Hop in, and we'll go for a ride." Penny jumped up delightedly, but suddenly remembering her newly found dignity and glamour, she sank back langorously on the swing and said in a husky voice, as nonchalantly as she could, "Run along, little boy. Carry your kiddie-car somewhere else. I'm not in the mood." "Gee," breathed Porky admiringly, "how long did it take you to think up that?" And with a wild Indian whoop he rattled away in the rickety Model T, pursued by apples and pillows thrown by the racing Penny. Boys were terrible creatures, Penny fought ruefully. They just didn't realize that the girls needed romance and gallantry. If Porky would only acquire more genteel manners, treat her like a lady, and stop wearing those horrid sneakers, ho might not be quite so distasteful to her. He could be a real gentleman, if only he would try. She bet her sister, Eleanor, met lots of real gentlemen in college. Eleanor would be coming home soon; already one big box of her things had been sent home. Penny hoped Eleanor wo la not mind about the red pyjamas. They did make her feel so good and sort of slurpy, like Cleopatra, maybe, or Carole Lombard. Once again Penny's thought was interrupted, this time by an amused, "Hello, beautiful." There stood the most handsome young man Penny had ever seen. He had jet black, wavy hair, twinkling blue, eyes ; and surely he must be at least six feet two. Penny, in sudden panic, did not know whether to stay or run. As she seemed about to do the latter, the young man said, "Don't go. I would like to talk with you. Is this where the Stevens' live?" Penny nodded dumbly. "Then you must be Penelope?" "How did you know?" she asked wonderingly. "I knew your sister, Eleanor, in college". She has told me all about you. So you see, I know just what you are like, and even what you eat for breakfast." Penny wondered a bit vaguely if he had ever seen Eleanor wearing the pyjamas, and if he would recognize them. "By the way," he laughed, "my name is Bill Duncan." Of course, the whole family had to meet him, and they all found him charming; but Penny felt him to be her own personal discovery. And that afternoon, when he asked her, before the whole family if she would like to go for a ride with him, she was in her glory. Her cup of joy over