he memory of that kiss had interfered
with the memory of her tree-climbing. Her spirit purred within her.

"I daresay I could 'shin up' a tree quite well nowadays," she remarked.
"It doesn't at all prevent one from making good tea."

As she spoke, she nipped a lump of sugar in two between her strong
little fingers, and dropped one half into the cup she was preparing for
him.

"I say!" exclaimed Morris. "How you do remember things!"

Then he flushed.

"Oh, yes ... I remember things," said Belinda easily.

She poured cream into the cup and pushed it towards him.

"There...." she said. "If you haven't changed ... entirely ... that's
the way you like it."

Sophy and Mrs. Horton were deeply absorbed. Sophy had just told
Belinda's mother about the plan of having Belinda stop with her at
Newport. Mrs. Horton was delighted. They were now discussing the
question of dates. Sophy thought that perhaps she had better arrange a
coming-out ball for Belinda before the girl appeared in society. In that
case, she had better go first to Newport, and Belinda could join her in,
say, ten days. Mrs. Horton called over to her daughter, happily excited:
"Linda, you are certainly the luckiest girl! Just listen to what Sophy's
going to do for you...."

And she explained with enthusiasm.

For some reason, Belinda, who did not colour easily, grew suddenly red.
Then she tossed back her head and looked at Sophy.

"It's _awfully_ good of you...." she said. "I think it's most _awfully_
kind of you...." she repeated. Her voice had real feeling in it, and
yet, queerly enough, Sophy sensed that this feeling included resentment
also. The girl was certainly a very peculiar character. Was it that she
did not like receiving favours which she could not return? She looked a
haughty creature. Yes--doubtless that was it.

"It will be a great pleasure for me to have you," Sophy said. "I shall
love bringing out the beauty of the season."

She said it nicely without a hint of patronage. But now this odd girl
grew quite pale.

"Thanks! That's awfully kind of you," she murmured again. What had
turned her pale was the thought that Sophy should take pleasure in her
own undoing. She was quite relentless, but she had the sort of qualm
that might have stirred a very young Nemesis, when precipitating the
first tragedy on her appointed path.

After this, the talk again became general for a few moments; then Sophy
took Mrs. Horton to see her sister, and the