she determined when Wednesday afternoon came around that she would take
a long walk in the direction of Brookline. Cynthia loved these walks,
for she sadly missed the country air,--and they had kept the color in
her cheeks and the courage in her heart that winter. She had amazed
the Merrill girls by the distances she covered, and on more than one
occasion she had trudged many miles to a spot from which there was a
view of Blue Hills. They reminded her faintly of Coniston.

Who can speak or write with any certainty of the feminine character, or
declare what unexpected twists perversity and curiosity may give to it?
Wednesday afternoon came, and Cynthia did not go to Brookline. She put
on her coat, and took it off again. Would he dare to come in the face of
the mandate he had received? If he did come, she wouldn't see him. Ellen
had received her orders.

At four o'clock the doorbell rang, and shortly thereafter Ellen
appeared, simpering and apologetic enough, with a card. She had taken
the trouble to read it this time. Cynthia was angry, or thought she was,
and her cheeks were very red.

"I told you to excuse me, Ellen. Why did you let him in?"

"Miss Cynthia, darlin'," said Ellen, "if it was made of flint I was,
wouldn't he bring the tears out of me with his wheedlin' an' coaxin'?
An' him such a fine young gintleman! And whin he took to commandin'
like, sure I couldn't say no to him at all at all. 'Take the card to
her, Ellen,' he says--didn't he know me name!--'an' if she says she
won't see me, thin I won't trouble her more.' Thim were his words,
Miss."

There he was before the fire, his feet slightly apart and his hands in
his pockets, waiting for her. She got a glimpse of him standing thus, as
she came down the stairs. It was not the attitude of a culprit. Nor did
he bear the faintest resemblance to a culprit as he came up to her in
the doorway. The chief recollection she carried away of that moment
was that his teeth were very white and even when he smiled. He had the
impudence to smile. He had the impudence to seize one of her hands in
his, and to hold aloft a sheet of paper in the other.

"What does this mean?" said he.

"What do you thick it means?" retorted Cynthia, with dignity.

"A summons to stay away," said Bob, thereby more or less accurately
describing it. "What would you have thought of me if I had not come?"

Cynthia was not prepared for any such question as this. She had meant
to ask the quest