nd and he so long gone.

"At last the baron came. He was a splendid-looking man, and his manners
were perfect. These things tell for so much with girls! He came, and one
morning--I remember it well: it was a cold, blowy spring morning--he
found me alone in the conservatory and renewed his suit. I was petting
the little bird when he found me, and he said, 'Dear little bird! he is
to be envied in having so much tenderness shown him.'

"'It is a female bird,' I said, 'and a forsaken bird, for its mate has
flown away and left it broken-hearted;' and I began at once to think of
Arthur, and fell into a reverie.

"The baron interpreted my little speech and my subsequent silence as
favorable to himself. He really thought I was beginning to pity myself
because he was going away. 'Ah,' he said, 'you know why I have come?'

"'To say good-bye,' I answered.

"'Perhaps, but to say first that I love you still, and to ask you to be
my wife.'

"My heart beat rapidly now, and I think the little bird that I was
holding to my bosom must have felt it, for it began to chirp in a low
murmur as if it would comfort me.

"'Give me a little time to think,' I said; and, strangely enough, all my
thinking was of Arthur and his going away, and his promised return; and
then I said to myself, 'What folly! he has forgotten me. If he had loved
me he wouldn't have gone till he had my word of love in return. He's
forgotten all about me.'

"The baron was gaining ground with me: I was reasoning myself into
something above esteem for him, and I turned to put my hand in his,
when there was a tap at the window, and the little bird, struggling from
my hand, burst into such a flood of singing that the whole place was
drowned with melody.

"'Oh,' I cried, 'her mate has come back! her mate has come back! He is
fluttering against the window. Do let him in, baron, the poor dear,
happy little thing!' and I sat down among the azaleas and the budding
Easter lilies and cried like a baby.

"The poor baron did let the little bird in, and side by side we
witnessed the joy of their meeting, expressed in a hundred tender little
caresses.

"At last the baron said, 'You forget, Miss Bronson, you haven't given me
my answer.'

"'And I can't answer you now,' I said. 'Please forget me. Indeed, I
don't know what to say to you: I believe I shall say No.'

"'Don't say anything,' he replied. 'I have done wrong. I have not given
you time to think. I must go now, but a y