lendar as a "tea," sometimes as reporter and often as guest, but she
had found no hostess like Miss Ainslie, no china so exquisitely fine,
nor any tea like the clear, fragrant amber which was poured into her
cup.

"It came from China," said Miss Ainslie, feeling the unspoken question.
"I had a whole chest of it, but it's almost all gone."

Ruth was turning her cup and consulting the oracle. "Here's two people,
a man and a woman, from a great distance, and, yes, here's money, too.
What is there in yours?"

"Nothing, deary, and besides, it doesn't come true."

When Ruth finally aroused herself to go home, the old restlessness, for
the moment, was gone. "There's a charm about you," she said, "for I feel
as if I could sleep a whole week and never wake at all."

"It's the tea," smiled Miss Ainslie, "for I'm a very commonplace body."

"You, commonplace?" repeated Ruth; "why, there's nobody like you!"

They stood at the door a few moments, talking aimlessly, but Ruth was
watching Miss Ainslie's face, as the sunset light lay caressingly upon
it. "I've had a lovely time," she said, taking another step toward the
gate.

"So have I--you'll come again, won't you?" The sweet voice was pleading
now, and Ruth answered it in her inmost soul. Impulsively, she came
back, threw her arms around Miss Ainslie's neck, and kissed her. "I love
you," she said, "don't you know I do?"

The quick tears filled Miss Ainslie's eyes and she smiled through the
mist. "Thank you, deary," she whispered, "it's a long time since any one
has kissed me--a long time!"

Ruth turned back at the gate, to wave her hand, and even at that
distance, saw that Miss Ainslie was very pale.

Winfield was waiting for her, just outside the hedge, but his presence
jarred upon her strangely, and her salutation was not cordial.

"Is the lady a friend of yours?" he inquired, indifferently.

"She is," returned Ruth; "I don't go to see my enemies--do you?"

"I don't know whether I do or not," he said, looking at her
significantly.

Her colour rose, but she replied, sharply: "For the sake of peace, let
us assume that you do not."

"Miss Thorne," he began, as they climbed the hill, "I don't see why you
don't apply something cooling to your feverish temper. You have to live
with yourself all the time, you know, and, occasionally, it must be
very difficult. A rag, now, wet in cold water, and tied around your
neck--have you ever tried that? It's said to be very goo