said Miss Lavendar softly, as if talking to
herself. "I wonder if he looks anything like the little dream-boy who
lives here with me . . . MY little dream-boy."

"If you would like to see Paul I'll bring him through with me sometime,"
said Anne.

"I would like it . . . but not too soon. I want to get used to the
thought. There might be more pain than pleasure in it . . . if he looked
too much like Stephen . . . or if he didn't look enough like him. In a
month's time you may bring him."

Accordingly, a month later Anne and Paul walked through the woods to
the stone house, and met Miss Lavendar in the lane. She had not been
expecting them just then and she turned very pale.

"So this is Stephen's boy," she said in a low tone, taking Paul's hand
and looking at him as he stood, beautiful and boyish, in his smart
little fur coat and cap. "He . . . he is very like his father."

"Everybody says I'm a chip off the old block," remarked Paul, quite at
his ease.

Anne, who had been watching the little scene, drew a relieved breath.
She saw that Miss Lavendar and Paul had "taken" to each other, and that
there would be no constraint or stiffness. Miss Lavendar was a very
sensible person, in spite of her dreams and romance, and after
that first little betrayal she tucked her feelings out of sight and
entertained Paul as brightly and naturally as if he were anybody's son
who had come to see her. They all had a jolly afternoon together and
such a feast of fat things by way of supper as would have made old Mrs.
Irving hold up her hands in horror, believing that Paul's digestion
would be ruined for ever.

"Come again, laddie," said Miss Lavendar, shaking hands with him at
parting.

"You may kiss me if you like," said Paul gravely.

Miss Lavendar stooped and kissed him.

"How did you know I wanted to?" she whispered.

"Because you looked at me just as my little mother used to do when she
wanted to kiss me. As a rule, I don't like to be kissed. Boys don't. You
know, Miss Lewis. But I think I rather like to have you kiss me. And of
course I'll come to see you again. I think I'd like to have you for a
particular friend of mine, if you don't object."

"I . . . I don't think I shall object," said Miss Lavendar. She turned
and went in very quickly; but a moment later she was waving a gay and
smiling good-bye to them from the window.

"I like Miss Lavendar," announced Paul, as they walked through the beech
woods. "I like the way