was Nell," said she.

"So did I, for a while; but I've discovered that it's Phyllis. And I
shall be very much obliged to you if you can tell me something. In fact,
if you _can_, your dear nephew Ronny will present his aunt with a
diamond ring."

"You mean if I tell you what you want to hear."

"No. It must be what you honestly think."

"I don't want a diamond ring," said she, which surprised me extremely.
It was the first time anything worth having has been mentioned which she
did not want, and, usually, ask for.

"A pearl one, then," I suggested in my astonishment.

"I don't want a pearl one--or any other one, so you can save yourself
the trouble of working through a long list," replied the lady who is
engaged to be my obliging relative. "But go on, and ask what you were
going to ask. Anything I can do for you, as an aunt, I will. I am paid
for it."

This grew "curioser and curioser," as Alice had occasion to remark in
her adventures. But having embarked upon my narrative, I went on----

"Whom do you think Phyllis meant when she spoke of trying to learn to
love a man who seemed to love her? Was it Alb, or----"

"Mr. Robert van Buren, perhaps you were going to say," cut in the L.C.P.

"No, I don't mean him," I answered hurriedly. "Modesty forbids me to
mention the name in my mind."

"But it was given to you by your sponsors in baptism. Will it make you
very unhappy if I say I don't think that _was_ the name in her mind?"

"I shall have to bear it," I said. "But, of course, I shall be unhappy."

"We all seem to be unhappy lately," remarked the L.C.P.

"Except you."

"Yes, except me, of course," she responded. "Why should I be unhappy?
Tibe loves me."

"You don't deserve it; but so do we all," said I.

She brightened.

"You are harmful, but necessary," I went on. "We are used to you. We
have even acquired a taste for you, I don't know why, or how. But you
have an uncanny, unauntlike fascination of your own, which we all feel.
At times it is even akin to pain."

"Oh well, the pain will soon be over," said she. "We're at Utrecht now.
Soon we'll be going to Zeeland, from Zeeland back to Rotterdam; and
that's the end of the trip--and my engagement. It will be 'good-by'
then."

"I feel now as if it would be good-by to everything," I sighed. "I never
nursed a fond gazelle----"

"You tried to nurse two," said she. "You're like the dog who dropped the
substance for the shadow."

"Which is which, pleas