be out soon, sir?" she asked. "I hope so, I am
sure. I'm that anxious to see your name in gold letters on the cover.
Good-night, sir. Good-night, my dear. Are you certain you don't want
more coals? Well, then, good-night."

John and Phyllis had their usual good-night talk by the fire.

"And so Mark Holroyd and the Honorable Margaret are engaged," said John,
replacing a fallen coal with the tongs.

Phyllis put her feet on the low, brass fender, and tucked in her skirt.

"Yes, they are engaged," she replied. "It is to be announced very soon.
Peggy says it shouldn't be called an engagement, but rather a two-year
probationary period. She could hardly wait to tell me. The darling! That
was why she was so anxious to help me unwrap the rug in the little
room."

An old prayer-rug, with a golden tree of life in its deep blue center,
was the Honorable Margaret's wedding gift; Mark sent a coffee
percolator.

Phyllis sighed.

"She will have a beautiful wedding," she said softly. "Ah, John, you
don't know what that means to a girl."

John poked the fire.

Suddenly Phyllis laughed.

"How could I have forgotten to tell you about the cards?" she continued.
"It was so funny, and so like Peggy Neville. You see,--her card was
fastened to the rug with a bit of ribbon--and on it was written---'With
love and sympathy.' When Peggy saw it she shrieked. 'Oh, Phyllis!' she
said, 'mother's cousin, Caroline Molesworth, has been at the hospital
for a week; day before yesterday she had her surgical operation, and
yesterday I sent flowers. I wrote the cards at home,--and they got
mixed. On hers is written--"May all your days be as full of joy as these
last few days have been!"'"

* * * * *

In the night Phyllis found herself wide awake. She lay quietly
considering a new thought that had come to her, somehow, while she
slept. If she only dared! Oh, no, no! She couldn't ask him. And
yet--She fell asleep again wondering whether--perhaps, just
possibly--she could do it, if she kept her mind firmly fixed on John's
book.

VIII

Bookshops are the most charming of all shops because they relate
themselves so intimately to their visitors. Mr. Rowlandson's gained by
its setting--at the corner of the green square. Not a very good place
for trade, you would say. However, he thrived.

His shop-window does not differ from a score of others one may see, on a
morning's walk: a shallow bay-window, with small