ll her exactly how much I should prefer to be
more alone with her. I do not want her to think me ungrateful, but to go
out with her to father and pay dear old Carthy a visit would be simply
splendid."

Then turning to me she said, I thought with a little quiver in her
voice, "They tell me you live with your father, Mrs. Evan--even though
you are married, and I have not seen mine for more than two years, only
think of it!"

Whereat my heart went out to her, and I prayed mentally that her father
might have a broad warm shoulder to pillow her head and a ready ear to
hear her confidences, for the perfectly rounded neck and shell ear of
the mother playing cards in the next room would never give harbour or
heed, I knew.

Sylvia was as pleased as a child at the idea of coming down to spend the
night, stipulating that if it was still cold she should be allowed to
make taffy and put it on the shed to harden, saying, with a pout: "At
school and college there was always somewhere that I could mess with
sticky things and cook, but here it is impossible, though mamma says I
shall have an outdoor tea-room at the Oaklands all to myself, and give
chafing-dish parties, for they are quite the thing. 'The thing' is my
boogy man, I'm afraid. If what you wish to do, no matter how silly,
agrees with it, it's all right, but if it doesn't, all the wisdom of
Solomon won't prevail against those two words."

Man No. 2 at this juncture came in and presented a florist's box and
envelope in a tray, saying, _sotto voce,_ as he did so, "Shall I hopen it
and arrange them, miss, or will you wear them?" for, as the result of
lavish entertaining and many hothouses as well as friends, flowers
showered upon the Latham house at all hours, and both library and hall
were almost too fragrant. Sylvia glanced at the note, saying, "I will
wear them," to the man, handed the card to Miss Lavinia, her face
flushing with pleasure, while No. 2 extracted a modest bunch of
California violets from the paper, handed them to his young mistress, and
retired with the box on his tray.

The name on the card was Horace Bradford, the pencilled address
University Club, on the reverse were the words, "May I give myself the
pleasure of calling to-morrow night? These February violets are in
remembrance of a May ducking. Am in town for two days only on college
business."

"The day that he rowed us on the Avon and reached too far up the bank to
pick you wild violets and the bo