re a man!"

"What'd you think I'd be? A girl?"

"You've grown."

"Oh, now see here, Lily. I quit growing years ago."

"And to think you are back all right. I was so worried, Pink."

He flushed at that.

"Needn't have worried," he said, rather thickly. "Didn't get to the
front until just before the end. My show was made a labor division in
the south of France. If you laugh, I'll take my flowers and go home."

"Why, Pink dear, I wouldn't laugh for anything. And it was the man
behind the lines who--"

"Won the war," he finished for her, rather grimly. "All right, Lily.
We've heard it before. Anyhow, it's all done and over, and--I brought
gardenias and violets. You used to like 'em."

"It was dear of you to remember."

"Couldn't help remembering. No credit to me. I--you were always in my
mind."

She was busily unwrapping the box.

"Always," he repeated, unsteadily.

"What gorgeous things!" she buried her face in them.

"Did you hear what I said, Lily?"

"Yes, and it's sweet of you. Now sit down and tell me about things. I've
got a lot to tell you, too."

He had a sort of quiet obstinacy, however, and he did not sit down. When
she had done so he stood in front of her, looking down at her.

"You've been in a camp. I know that. I heard it over there. Anne
Devereaux wrote me. It worried me because--we had girls in the camps
over there, and every one of them had a string of suitors a mile long."

"Well, I didn't," said Lily, spiritedly. Then she laughed. He had been
afraid she would laugh. "Oh, Pink, how dear and funny and masculine you
are! I have a perfectly uncontrollable desire to kiss you."

Which she did, to his amazement and consternation. Nothing she could
have done would more effectually have shown him the hopelessness of his
situation than that sisterly impulse.

"Good Lord," he gasped, "Grayson's in the hall."

"If he comes in I shall probably do it again. Pink, you darling child,
you are still the little boy at Mrs. Van Buren's and if you would only
purse your lips and count one--two--three--Are you staying to luncheon?"

He was suffering terribly. Also he felt strangely empty inside, because
something that he had carried around with him for a long time seemed to
have suddenly moved out and left a vacancy.

"Thanks. I think not, Lily; I've got a lot to do to-day."

She sat very still. She had had to do it, had had to show him, somehow,
that she loved him without loving him as he wanted h