ote hurriedly, using the elaborately monogrammed house
paper, and his script was interspersed with dashes, with now and then a
boyish blot.

When he had finished he went to the desk of the girl in the corridor who
sold post-cards and magazines, and bought a stamp.

Anthony was delayed, somewhat, in starting out with Captain Stubbs by
the news that Miss Matthews was worse.

He found her with a high fever, and he also found Bettina in a state of
agitated apology.

"I'm afraid I talked to her too late. But we--we were afraid of the
storm."

"She'll be all right in a few hours, but you've got to get some rest.
I'll send a nurse."

"No--Sophie said she would come--early this afternoon--and then I can
sleep--and I've had little naps on the couch----"

As he turned to go he stopped and said, with some hesitation: "You
didn't write the letter to the Big Bear, Betty."

She blushed. "I'm not going to write it."

"Why not?"

"Because--I've changed my mind about it--I've really nothing to tell
you--and every woman has a right to change her mind."

She tried to say it saucily, but was not successful, and he, vaguely
relieved, responded, "I'm glad--that you are not troubled," kissed her
lightly on her forehead, and went away. And she looked after him and
sighed, and wondered if all the years which stretched before them would
be as dreary as this.

The arrival of the little captain broke in upon her thoughts. "You give
her these," he said. "I can't stay a minute. I'm going out with Anthony
for a day's fishin'."

He rushed away, leaving Bettina with her arms full of pink roses.

She took them in to Miss Matthews. "Letty," she said, "the captain
brought them. Isn't he romantic? He is making pink your color. I think
it's dear of him."

Miss Matthews blushed. "I'd surely never have picked out Captain Stubbs
for the romantic kind, but you never can tell."

"No, you never can tell," Betty agreed, and stood looking idly out of
the window.

All at once she gave startled attention.

"Letty," she said, "Justin is flying."

Miss Matthews, half asleep, murmured, "Well, I'm glad you're not with
him," and Bettina, recalled to her obligations to the invalid, answered
with assumed carelessness, "So am I," and measured out Miss Matthews'
medicine, and talked no more.

But her heart was beating madly as she followed his flight. He was up
there--alone. Up there in that wonderful world! Was he thinking of her?
Was he hearing,