nd wished--all the foolish things that lovers have wished since
the world began. But he had a great longing to see her eyes. If he were
to say sharply, "Look at me!" would she look up? Absurd idea! And
anyway he couldn't say it, or anything else, for the first time in his
life Henry Callandar was tongue-tied.

Did she, too, feel strange? Was that why she kept her eyes so
persistently lowered? No, it could hardly be that. She laughed and
talked quite naturally--seemed entire mistress of herself.

"I know I am late, Auntie. It's Friday, you know, and I walked slowly. I
forgot that I had promised to help Jane wash the new pup. But there is
time yet. Supposing we have tea, English fashion, out here. I'll
tell mother--"

"She is at the Ladies Aid, Esther."

"Oh, yes. I forgot. Well, then you must entertain Dr. Callandar while I
see about tea."

"No tea for me, thanks," said the doctor hastily. He didn't know why he
said it except that he wanted to say something, something which might
make her look at him.

But she did not look. His refusal lost him a cup of tea and gained him
nothing whatever.

"No tea?" Her tone was mildly wondering, but she was looking at Aunt Amy
while she spoke. "I'm sorry you are in a hurry. Bubble said you
were busy."

"Not busy exactly. But it's office hours, you know. My partner grows
quite waxy if I'm late, and I'm late now."

"Another day, then?" Esther's tone was charmingly gracious, but she
seemed to be addressing the gate post, as far as he could judge from the
direction of her gaze.

Callandar picked up his hat, gloomily. There was nothing to do now but
take his leave. And if he had had any sense he might have been going to
stay for tea. Office hours be hanged!

"Thank you, another day I shall be delighted." He took the hand she
offered and bowed over it. Delightful custom this of shaking hands!
Esther's hand was cool as a wind-blown leaf. Would she actually say
good-bye without looking at him? He held the hand firmly but she did not
seem to be conscious that he held it. She was smiling at some children
who were going by on the sidewalk.

"Good-bye," said Callandar in a subdued voice.

"Good-bye," said Esther sweetly.

He dropped her hand, they bowed formally, and the foolish, poignant
little tragedy of parting was over. Not once had they looked into each
other's eyes.

When he had gone Esther sank down upon the elm tree seat.

"Oh, Auntie!" she said with a little sob in h