t Harriet, "and Mrs. Edes, my dear, has been
engaged in much more important work. If you had written a book which
had made you famous, no one could venture to complain of your lack of
industry with regard to the daisy centre piece. But I am sure that
Mrs. Edes, in order to have written that book of which everybody is
talking, must have displayed much industry and concentration in all
the minor matters of life. I think you must be mistaken, my dear. I
am quite sure that Mrs. Edes has not neglected work."

Annie made no rejoinder, but her aunt did not seem to notice it.

"I am so thankful, Mr. von Rosen," said she, "that my niece has the
honour of being counted among the friends of such a remarkable woman.
May I inquire if Mrs. Edes has ever seen your really extraordinary
collection, Mr. von Rosen."

"No, she has not seen it," replied Von Rosen, and he looked annoyed.
Without in the least understanding the real trend of the matter, he
did not like to hear his sweetheart addressed after such a fashion,
even though he had no inkling of the real state of affairs. To his
mind, this exquisite little Annie, grimy daisy centre piece and all,
had accomplished much more in simply being herself, than had Margaret
Edes with her much blazoned book.

"I trust that she will yet see it," said Miss Harriet Eustace.
Harriet Eustace was tall, dull skinned and wide mouthed, and she had
a fashion, because she had been told from childhood that her mouth
was wide, of constantly puckering it as if she were eating alum.

"I shall be of course pleased to show Mrs. Edes my collection at any
time," said Von Rosen politely.

"I hope she will see it," said Harriet, puckering, "it is so
improving, and if anything is improving to the ordinary mind, what
must it be to the mind of genius?"

The two took leave then, Annie walking behind her aunt. The sidewalk
which was encroached upon by grass was very narrow. Annie did not
speak at all. She heard her aunt talking incessantly without
realising the substance of what she said. Her own brain was
overwhelmed with bewilderment and happiness. Here was she, Annie
Eustace, engaged to be married and to the right man. The combination
was astounding. Annie had been conscious ever since she had first
seen him, that Karl von Rosen dwelt at the back of her thoughts, but
she was rather a well disciplined girl. She had not allowed herself
the luxury of any dreams concerning him and herself. She had not
considere