surprised.

"I told papa that I could not find anything to interest him. Papa
laughed and said it was my fault, he was one of the sharpest lawyers in
the city. Would you rather be that than to write?"

"Oh, all lawyers are not like that. And, don't you know, literature
doesn't pay."

"Yes, I have heard that." And then she thought a minute and with a
quizzical look continued: "That is such a queer word, 'pay.' McDonald
says that it pays to be good. Do you think, Mr. Burnett, that law would
pay you?"

Evidently the girl had a standard of judging people that was not much in
use.

Before they rose from the table, Philip asked, speaking low, "Miss
Mavick, won't you give me a violet from your bunch in memory of this
evening?"

Evelyn hesitated an instant, and then, without looking up, disengaged
three, and shyly laid them at her left hand. "I like the number three
better."

Philip covered the flowers with his hand, and said, "I will keep them
always."

"That is a long time," Evelyn answered, but still without looking up.
But when they rose the color mounted to her cheeks, and Philip thought
that the glorious eyes turned upon him were full of trust.

"It is all your doing," said Carmen, snappishly, when Mavick joined her
in the drawing-room.

"What is?"

"You insisted upon having him at the reception."

"Burnett? Oh, stuff, he isn't a fool!"

There was not much said as the three drove home. Evelyn, flushed with
pleasure and absorbed in her own thoughts, saw that something had gone
wrong with her mother and kept silent. Mr. Mavick at length broke the
silence with:

"Did you have a good time, child?"

"Oh, yes," replied Evelyn, cheerfully, "and Mrs. Van Cortlandt was very
sweet to me. Don't you think she is very hospitable, mamma?"

"Tries to be," Mrs. Mavick replied, in no cordial tone. "Good-natured
and eccentric. She picks up the queerest lot of people. You can never
know whom you will not meet at her house. Just now she goes in for being
literary."

Evelyn was not so reticent with McDonald. While she was undressing she
disclosed that she had had a beautiful evening, that she was taken out
by Mr. Burnett, and talked about his story.

"And, do you know, I think I almost persuaded him to write another."

"It's an awful responsibility," dryly said the shrewd Scotch woman,
"advising young men what to do."

XVIII

Upon the recollection of this dinner Philip maintained his hope
and courage for a