e teeming suitcase,--"there are the minor
results of--having taken your advice."

In Cornelia's face the well-groomed expression showed sudden signs of
immediate disorganization.

Snatching the circular out of his hand she read it hurriedly, once,
twice, three times. Then kneeling cautiously down on the floor with
all the dignity that characterized every movement of her body, she
began to poke here and there into the contents of the suitcase.

[Illustration: He unbuckled the straps of his suitcase and turned the
cover backward on the floor]

"The 'minor results'?" she asked soberly.

"Why yes," said Stanton. "There were several things I didn't have room
to bring. There was a blanket-wrapper. And there was a--girl, and
there was a--"

Cornelia's blonde eyebrows lifted perceptibly. "A girl--whom you
didn't know at all--sent you a blanket-wrapper?" she whispered.

"Yes!" smiled Stanton. "You see no girl whom I knew--very well--seemed
to care a hang whether I froze to death or not."

"O--h," said Cornelia very, very slowly, "O--h." Her eyes had a
strange, new puzzled expression in them like the expression of a
person who was trying to look outward and think inward at the same
time.

"But you mustn't be so critical and haughty about it all," protested
Stanton, "when I'm really trying so hard to explain everything
perfectly honestly to you--so that you'll understand exactly how it
happened."

"I should like very much to be able to understand exactly how it
happened," mused Cornelia.

Gingerly she approached in succession the roll of sample wall-paper,
the maps, the time-tables, the books, the little silver porringer, the
intimate-looking scrap of unfinished fancy-work. One by one Stanton
explained them to her, visualizing by eager phrase or whimsical
gesture the particularly lonesome and susceptible conditions under
which each gift had happened to arrive.

At the great pile of letters Cornelia's hand faltered a trifle.

"How many did I write you?" she asked with real curiosity.

"Five thin ones, and a postal-card," said Stanton almost
apologetically.

Choosing the fattest looking letter that she could find, Cornelia
toyed with the envelope for a second. "Would it be all right for me to
read one?" she asked doubtfully.

"Why, yes," said Stanton. "I think you might read one."

After a few minutes she laid down the letter without any comment.

"Would it be all right for me to read another?" she questioned