between my eyes and endless Greek roots a great many times
during the past four years. I was glad of an excuse to see once more the
face itself.

Armed with my letter of introduction, a glass jar of tomatoes, and
arrayed in my best suit, I rang the bell at the door of Mr. Hay. A
servant girl admitted me, and showed me directly into the room where
Florence was sitting.

How very beautiful she had grown during my absence! I had never seen so
fair a vision! She rose at my entrance, and, bowing with inimitable
grace, extended her hand.

"Am I correct in believing that I have the pleasure of addressing Mr.
Sunderland?" she said, with gentle politeness.

I bowed--the jar slipped from my grasp and fell to the floor; I made a
hasty movement to take the hand she had offered me, and in so doing put
my foot on the jar; it was crushed to atoms, and the seeds and syrup flew
in every direction! The obstacle beneath my feet made me stagger; I
grasped the folds of a window-curtain in the hope of saving myself, but
my equilibrium was too far gone--down came the curtain--over I went, head
first, against a flower-stand, on which were a nondescript array of
flowerpots, a canary bird in a cage, and a big Maltese cat in a basket.

The force of my fall upset the stand, and, with all its favorites, it
turned over on the carpet! Plants, cat, bird, cage, and Roy Sunderland,
all lay in one mass of ruin together at the feet of the astonished Miss
Hay. The cat was the first to recover her presence of mind, and with a
"midnight cry" which would have appalled the stoutest heart, she sprang
into my face, tearing up the skin with a violence worthy the admiration
of all persons who believe in the wisdom of "getting at the root of a
matter" at once.

I scrambled up--gave the animal a blow that sent her to the other side of
the room--and hatless, and bloody, made for the door. With frantic haste
I seized the handle--it did not yield; the door was fastened by a spring
lock, and I was a prisoner!

Imagine my dismay! Florence stood looking at me, and there was a smile on
her face that she, with great difficulty restrained from breaking into a
decided ha! ha! Just then I would have sold myself to any reliable man
for a six-pence, and thirty days credit.

Mortified and crestfallen, I was strongly inclined to follow the example
of the heroines in sensation novels, and burst into tears; but crying, it
is said, makes the nose red, and, remembering this