vinities that one after the other he flattered with courteous
praise. When Guy had been given all his presents Pauline saw her father
put a hand in his coat and pull out a small book.

"Father has remembered Guy's birthday!" she cried, clapping her hands.
"Now I do call that wonderful. Francis, you're wonderful. You're really
wonderful!"

"Pauline, Pauline, don't get too excited," her mother begged. "And
please don't call your father Francis in the garden."

"Propertius," Guy murmured, shyly opening the book; but when he was
going to say something about that Roman lover to the Rector, the Rector
had vanished.

After breakfast Pauline and Guy walked in the inner wall-garden, that
was now brilliant with ten thousand deep-throated gladioli.

"Pauline," said Guy, "this morning I learned Milton's sonnet on his
twenty-third birthday, and I feel rather worried. Listen:

"How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late Spring no bud or blossom shew'th.

"Well, now, if Milton felt like that," he sighed, "what about me?
Pauline, tell me again that you believe in me."

"Of course I believe in you," she vowed.

"And I am right to stay here?" he asked, eagerly.

"Oh, Guy, of course, of course."

"You see, I shall be writing to my father to-night to tell him of our
engagement, and I don't want to feel you have the least doubt of me. You
haven't, have you? Never? Never? There must never have been the
slightest doubt, or I shall doubt."

"Dearest Guy," she said, "if you changed anything for me, our love
wouldn't be the best thing for you, and I only want my love to be my
love, if it is the love you want, Guy. I'm not clever, you know. I'm
really stupid, but I can love. Oh, I can love you more than any one, I
think. I know, I know I can. Guy, I do adore you. But if I felt you were
thinking you ought to go away on account of me, I would have to give you
up."

"You couldn't give me up," he proclaimed, holding her straight before
him with looks that were hungry for one word or one gesture that could
help him to tell her what he wanted to say.

"Does my love worry you?" she whispered, faint with all the
responsibility she felt for the future of this lover of hers.

"Pauline, my love for you is my life."

But quickly they glided away from passion to discuss projects of simple
happiness; and walking together a l