. A little further on Susy dropped her handkerchief, and was
obliged to dart out and run back to the end of the file to recover it.
But she gave another swift glance of her blue eyes as she snatched it up
and demurely ran back to her place. The procession passed on, but when
Clarence reached the spot where she had paused he saw a three-cornered
bit of paper lying in the grass. He was too discreet to pick it up while
the girls were still in sight, but continued on, returning to it later.
It contained a few words in a schoolgirl's hand, hastily scrawled in
pencil: "Come to the south wall near the big pear-tree at six."

Delighted as Clarence felt, he was at the same time embarrassed. He
could not understand the necessity of this mysterious rendezvous.
He knew that if she was a scholar she was under certain conventual
restraints; but with the privileges of his position and friendship with
his teachers, he believed that Father Sobriente would easily procure him
an interview with this old play-fellow, of whom he had often spoken,
and who was, with himself, the sole survivor of his tragical past. And
trusted as he was by Sobriente, there was something in this clandestine
though innocent rendezvous that went against his loyalty. Nevertheless,
he kept the appointment, and at the stated time was at the south wall
of the convent, over which the gnarled boughs of the distinguishing
pear-tree hung. Hard by in the wall was a grated wicket door that seemed
unused.

Would she appear among the boughs or on the edge of the wall? Either
would be like the old Susy. But to his surprise he heard the sound
of the key turning in the lock. The grated door suddenly swung on its
hinges, and Susy slipped out. Grasping his hand, she said, "Let's run,
Clarence," and before he could reply she started off with him at a rapid
pace. Down the lane they flew--very much, as it seemed to Clarence's
fancy, as they had flown from the old emigrant wagon on the prairie,
four years before. He glanced at the fluttering, fairy-like figure
beside him. She had grown taller and more graceful; she was dressed in
exquisite taste, with a minuteness of luxurious detail that bespoke
the spoilt child; but there was the same prodigal outburst of rippling,
golden hair down her back and shoulders, violet eyes, capricious little
mouth, and the same delicate hands and feet he had remembered. He would
have preferred a more deliberate survey, but with a shake of her head
and an