told me so much, and I
seem to have known you so long, and, besides, because you must never
feel ashamed of having told me so much, you shall come, if you please,
as my brother."

It was not till afterward that she reflected on the vast
responsibilities she incurred in making this proposal, and on the
eagerness with which her pupil accepted it.

"As your brother!" he cried, offering her his hand. "Why, it is
far--far more than I could have ventured to hope. Yes, I will come as
your brother. And now, although you know so much about me, you have
told me nothing about yourself--not even your name."

"My name is Iris Aglen."

"Iris! It is a pretty name!"

"It was, I believe, my grandmother's. But I never saw her, and I do
not know who or what my father's relations are."

"Iris Aglen!" he repeated. "Iris was the Herald of the Gods, and the
rainbow was constructed on purpose to serve her for a way from Heaven
to the Earth."

"Mathematicians do not allow that," said the girl, smiling.

"I don't know any mathematics. But now I understand in what school you
learned your heraldry. You are Queen-at-Arms at least, and Herald to
the Gods of Olympus."

He wished to add something about the loveliness of Aphrodite, and the
wisdom of Athene, but he refrained, which was in good taste.

"Thank you, Mr. Arbuthnot," Iris replied. "I learned my heraldry of my
grandfather, who taught himself from the books he sells. And my
mathematics I learned of Lala Roy, who is our lodger, and a learned
Hindoo gentleman. My father is dead--and my mother as well--and I have
no friends in the world except these two old men, who love me, and
have done their best to spoil me."

Her eyes grew humid and her voice trembled.

No other friends in the world! Strange to say, this young man felt a
little sense of relief. No other friends. He ought to have sympathized
with the girl's loneliness; he might have asked her how she could
possibly endure life without companionship, but he did not; he only
felt that other friends might have been rough and ill-bred; this girl
derived her refinement, not only from nature, but also from separation
from the other girls who might in the ordinary course have been her
friends and associates. And if no other friends, then no lover.
Arnold was only going to visit the young lady as her brother; but
lovers do not generally approve the introduction of such novel effects
as that caused by the appearance of a brand-new and