ly in one moment, and forgotten about it the next. But
Larkin was too young, too foolish, and too full of false pride to make
confessions to any one who could help him; and he was quite ignorant of
the genuine kindness and wisdom that lurks in the average rich man, if
once you can get his ear.

But one night, being sure they could not be construed into an appeal for
help, or anything but a sympathetic scolding, which he thought would be
enjoyable (and because of a full moon, perhaps, and a whole chorus of
mocking-birds pouring out their souls in song, and because of an arbor
covered with the yellow jasmine that smells to heaven, and a little
sweeter), he made his sorry confessions into the lovely pink hollow of
Miss Tennant's ear.

Instead of a scolding he received sympathy and understanding; and he
misconstrued the fact that she caught his hand in hers and squeezed it
very hard; and did not know that he had misconstrued that fact until he
found that it was her cheek that he had kissed instead of her hastily
averted lips.

This rebuff did not prevent him from crowning the story of his young
life with further confessions. And it is on record that when Larkin came
into the brightly lighted club there was dust upon the knees of his
trousers.

"I _am_ fond of you, David," she had said, "and in spite of all the mess
you have made of things, I believe in you; but even if I were fonder
than fondest of you, I should despise myself if I listened to you--now."

But she did not sleep all night for thinking how she could be of real,
material help to the young man, and cause him to turn into the straight,
narrow path that always leads to success and sometimes to achievement.

Every spring the Mannings, who have nothing against them except that
they live on the wrong side of town, give a wistaria party. The Mannings
live for the blossoming of the wistaria which covers their charming
porticoed house from top to toe and fills their grounds. Ever since they
can remember they have specialized in wistaria; and they are not young,
and wistaria grows fast. The fine old trees that stand in the Mannings'
grounds are merely lofty trellises for the vines, white and mauve, to
sport upon. The Mannings' garden cost less money, perhaps, than any
notable garden in Aiken; and when in full bloom it is, perhaps, the most
beautiful garden in the world. To appreciate wistaria, one vine with a
spread of fifty feet bearing ten thousand racemes of blo