mould-covered palm. "I can't shake hands with you."

Honora laughed.

"I couldn't resist the temptation to see your garden," she said.

A gentle light gleamed in his blue eyes, and he paused before a trellis
of June roses. With his gardening knife he cut three of them, and held
them gallantly against her white gown. Her sensitive colour responded as
she thanked him, and she pinned them deftly at her waist.

"You like gardens?" he said.

"I was brought up with them," she answered; "I mean," she corrected
herself swiftly, "in a very modest way. My uncle is passionately fond of
flowers, and he makes our little yard bloom with them all summer. But of
course," Honora added, "I've never seen anything like this."

"It has been a life work," answered Mr. Holt, proudly, "and yet I feel
as though I had not yet begun. Come, I will show you the peonies--they
are at their best--before I go in and make myself respectable for
breakfast."

Ten minutes later, as they approached the house in amicable and even
lively conversation, they beheld Susan and Mrs. Robert standing on the
steps under the porte-cochere, watching them.

"Why, Honora," cried Susan, "how energetic you are! I actually had a
shock when I went to your room and found you'd gone. I'll have to write
Miss Turner."

"Don't," pleaded Honora; "you see, I had every inducement to get up."

"She has been well occupied," put in Mr. Holt. "She has been admiring my
garden."

"Indeed I have," said Honora.

"Oh, then, you have won father's heart!" cried Susan. Gwendolen Holt
smiled. Her eyes were fixed upon the roses in Honora's belt.

"Good morning, Miss Leffingwell," she said, simply.

Mr. Holt having removed the loam from his hands, the whole family,
excepting Joshua, Junior, and including an indefinite number of
children, and Carroll, the dignified butler, and Martha, the elderly
maid, trooped into the library for prayers. Mr. Holt sat down before
a teak-wood table at the end of the room, on which reposed a great,
morocco-covered Bible. Adjusting his spectacles, he read, in a mild but
impressive voice, a chapter of Matthew, while Mrs. Joshua tried to
quiet her youngest. Honora sat staring at a figure on the carpet,
uncomfortably aware that Mrs. Robert was still studying her. Mr. Holt
closed the Bible reverently, and announced a prayer, whereupon the
family knelt upon the floor and leaned their elbows on the seats of
their chairs. Honora did likewise, wondering at t