tself.

"We'll quickly find that out," he said, and his voice was more buoyant
than she had heard it in months. "Missy, do you think you could get a
note to her right away?"

Missy nodded eagerly.

He scribbled the note on the back of a letter and folded it with the
Poem in the used envelope. "There won't be any answer," he directed
Missy, "unless she brings it herself. Just get it to her without
anyone's seeing."

Missy nodded again, vibrant with repressed excitement. "I'll just
pretend it's a secret about a poem. Miss Princess always helps make
secrets about poems."

Evidently Miss Princess did so this time. For, after an eternity of ten
minutes, Young Doc, peering through the leaves of the summerhouse, saw
Missy and her convoy coming across the lawn. Missy was walking along
very solemnly, with only an occasional skip to betray the ebullition
within her.

But it was on the tall girl that Young Doc's gaze was riveted, the
slender graceful figure which, for all its loveliness, had something
pathetically drooping about it--like a lily with a storm-bruised stem.

Something in Young Doc's throat clicked, and every last trace of
resentment and wounded pride magically dissolved. He went straight to
her in the doorway, and for a moment they stood there as if forgetful of
everyone else in the world. Neither spoke, as is the way of those whose
minds and hearts are full of inarticulate things. Then it was Doc who
broke the silence.

"By the way, Missy," he said in quite an ordinary tone, "there are some
of those sugar pills in a bag out in the Ford. You'll find them tucked
in a corner of the seat."

Obediently Missy departed to get the treat. And when she returned, not
too quickly, Miss Princess was laughing and crying both at once, and
Young Doc was openly squeezing both her hands.

"Missy," he hailed, "run in and ask your mother if you can go for a
ride. Needn't mention Miss Princess is going along."

O, it is a wonderful world! Swiftly back at the trysting place with the
necessary permission, tucked into the Ford between the two happy lovers,
"away they did race until soon lost to view."

And exactly the same happy purpose as that in the Poem! For, half-way
down the stretch of Boulevard, Miss Princess squeezed her hand and said:

"We're going over to Somerville, darling, to be married, and you're to
be one of the witnesses."

Missy's heart surged with delight--O, it was a wonderful world! Then a
dart of rem