m plain enough it was for you, and your name, with mine, was on
the card," answered Annie, really very much provoked.

"Well, do not fret, little sister; I am just as much obliged; and
perchance some poor fellow not so fortunate as I may have received it,"
answered Edward Roberts.

"Don't, for pity's sake, let mother know of the mistake, or whatever it
is, that has robbed you of your bouquet. She will fret dreadfully about
it," said Annie.

All that night, until she was lost in sleep, did she constantly repeat:

"I wonder who has got it?"

She had failed to observe on the list of graduates the name of _Edgar
Roberts_, from Ohio, or she might have had an idea into whose hands her
bouquet had fallen. Her brother Edward, immediately on hearing Annie's
exclamation, thought how the mistake had occurred, and was really glad
that it was as it was; for the young man whose name was so nearly like
his own was a stranger in the city, and Edward had noticed his receiving
_one_ bouquet only, which of course was the missing one, and Annie's.

Edgar Roberts sat in his room that night, after his return from the
distribution of diplomas, holding in his hand Annie's bouquet, and on
the table beside him was a floral dictionary. An expression of
gratification was on his pleasant face, and, as again and again his eyes
turned from the flowers to seek their interpreter, his lips were
wreathed with smiles, and he murmured low:

"Annie Grey! Sweet Annie Grey! I never dreamed of any one in this place
knowing or caring enough for me to send such a tribute. How carefully
these flowers are chosen! What a charming, appreciative little girl she
is! Pretty, I know, of course. I wonder how she came to send me this?
How shall I find her? Find her I must, and know her."

And Edgar Roberts fell asleep to dream of Annie Grey, and awoke in the
morning whispering the last words of the night before:

"Sweet Annie Grey!"

During the day he found it quite impossible to fix his mind on his work;
mind and heart were both occupied with thoughts of Annie Grey. And so it
continued to be until Edgar Roberts was really in love with a girl he
knew not, nor had ever seen. To find her was his fixed determination.
But how delicately he must go about it. He could not make inquiry among
his gentlemen acquaintances without speculations arising, and a name
sacred to him then, passed from one to another, lightly spoken, perhaps.
Then he bethought himself of the city