as a woman looks
at but one man ever. "Is this your idea of 'spending the afternoon'
with one, turning up when tea is over and twilight about to begin?
Do you know, I am a very busy young woman these days"--blushing
rosily--"and might have spent a whole day in town shopping but
that Dollops brought me word that I might look for you? But, of
course----No! I shan't say it. It might make you vain to hear that
you had the power to spoil my day."

"Not any vainer than you have made me by telling me other things," he
retorted with a laugh. "I am afraid I have spoiled a good many days
for you in my time, Ailsa. But, please God, I shall make up for them
all in the brightness of the ones that are to come. I couldn't help
being late to-day--I'll tell you all about that presently--but may I
offer something in atonement? Please, will you add these to your
bouquet and forgive me?"

"Roses! Such beauties! How good of you! Just smell! How divine!"

"Meaning the flowers or their donor?"--quizzically. "Or, no! Don't
elucidate. Leave me in blissful ignorance. You have hurt my vanity
quite enough as it is. I was deeply mortified--cut to the quick,
I may say, if that will express my sense of grovelling shame any
clearer--when I arrived here and saw what you were doing. Please,
mum"--touching his forelock and scraping his foot backward after
the manner of a groom--"did I make such a bad job of my work in
that garden that when you want a bouquet you have to come out here
and gather wild flowers? I put fifty-eight standard roses on that
terrace just under your bedroom window, and surely there must be a
bloom or two that you could gather?"

"As if I would cut one of them for anything in the world!" she gave
back, indignantly. Then she laughed, and blushed and stepped back
from his impetuous advance. "No--please! You fished for that so
adroitly that you landed it before I thought. Be satisfied. Besides,
Mrs. Condiment is at her window, and I want to preserve as much as
possible of her rapidly depreciating estimate of me. She thinks
me a very frivolous young person, 'to allow that young Mr. Hamilton
to call so frequent, miss, and if you'll allow me to say it, at such
unseemly hours. I don't think as dear Captain Burbage would quite
approve of it if he knew.'"

"Gad! that's rich. What a mimic you are. It was the dear old girl
to the life. She hasn't an inkling of the truth, then?"

"Not one. She doesn't quite approve of you, either. 'I li