s heavenly there in Phyllis's
rose-garden, with the colored flowers coming out, and the little green
caterpillars roaming over the leaves, and pretty dresses to wear, and
Foxy-dog to play with--and Allan! Allan demanded--no, not exactly
demanded, but expected and got--so much of Phyllis's society in these
days that she had learned to carry on all her affairs, even the
housekeeping, out in her hammock by his wheel-chair or couch. She wore
large, floppy white hats with roses on them, by way of keeping the sun
off; but Allan, it appeared, did not think much of hats except as an
ornament for girls, and his uncovered curly hair was burned to a sort of
goldy-russet all through, and his pallor turned to a clear pale brown.

Phyllis looked up from her work one of these heavenly last-of-June days,
and tried to decide whether she really liked the change or not. Allan
was handsomer unquestionably, though that had hardly been necessary. But
the resignedly statuesque look was gone.

Allan felt her look, and looked up at her. He had been reading a
magazine, for Phyllis had succeeded in a large measure in reviving his
taste for magazines and books. "Well, Phyllis, my dear," said he,
smiling, "what's the problem now? I feel sure there is something new
going to be sprung on me--get the worst over!"

"You wrong me," she said, beginning to thread some more pink embroidery
silk. "I was only wondering whether I liked you as well tanned as I did
when you were so nice and white, back in the city."

"Cheerful thought!" said Allan, laying down his magazine entirely.
"Shall I ring for Wallis and some peroxide? As you said the other day,
'I have to be approved of or I'm unhappy!'"

"Oh, it really doesn't matter," said Phyllis mischievously. "You know, I
married you principally for a rose-garden, and that's _lovely_!"

"I suppose I spoil the perspective," said Allan, unexpectedly ruffled.

Phyllis leaned forward in her blossom-dotted draperies and stroked his
hand, that long carven hand she so loved to watch.

"Not a bit, Allan," she said, laughing at him. "You're exceedingly
decorative! I remember the first time I saw you I thought you looked
exactly like a marble knight on a tomb."

Allan--Allan the listless, tranced invalid of four months before--threw
his head back and shouted with laughter.

"I suppose I serve the purpose of garden statuary," he said. "We used to
have some horrors when I was a kid. I remember two awful bronze deer