nice Harvard
freshmen and two boys from St. Paul and five from Groton. That helps,
you know."

"Helps what?" asked Selwyn, vastly amused.

"To pass the time until I am eighteen," said the child serenely, helping
herself to another soft, pale-green chunk of the aromatic paste. "Uncle
Philip, mother has forbidden me--and I'll tell her and take my
punishment--but would you mind telling me how you first met my Aunt
Alixe?"

Selwyn's arm around her relaxed, then tightened.

"Why do you ask, dear?" he said very quietly.

"Because I was just wondering whether God arranged that, too."

Selwyn looked at her a moment. "Yes," he said grimly; "nothing happens
by chance."

"Then, when God arranges such things, He does not always consider our
happiness."

"He gives us our chance, Drina."

"Oh! Did you have a chance? I heard mother say to Eileen that you had
never had a chance for happiness. I thought it was very sad. I had gone
into the clothes-press to play with my dolls--you know I still do play
with them--that is, I go into some secret place and look at them at
times when the children are not around. So I was in there, sitting on
the cedar-chest, and I couldn't help hearing what they said."

She extracted another bonbon, bit into it, and shook her head:

"And mother said to Eileen: 'Dearest, can't you learn to care for him?'
And Eileen--"

"Drina!" he interrupted sharply, "you must not repeat things you
overhear."

"Oh, I didn't hear anything more," said the child, "because I remembered
that I shouldn't listen, and I came out of the closet. Mother was
standing by the bed, and Eileen was lying on the bed with her hands over
her eyes; and I didn't know she had been crying until I said: 'Please
excuse me for listening,' and she sat up very quickly, and I saw her
face was flushed and her eyes wet. . . . Isn't it possible for you to
marry anybody, Uncle Philip?"

"No, Drina."

"Not even if Eileen would marry you?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You could not understand, dear. Even your mother cannot quite
understand. So we won't ever speak of it again, Drina."

The child balanced a bonbon between thumb and forefinger, considering it
very gravely.

"I know something that mother does not," she said. And as he betrayed no
curiosity:

"Eileen _is_ in love. I heard her say so."

He straightened up sharply, turning to look at her.

"I was sleeping with her. I was still awake, and I heard her say: 'I
_do_ love you--I _do_