ll the fuss is made, isn't he?"

Frances blushed.

"What do you mean, dear?" she asked.

"Oh, don't I know? I heard you giving directions about his room, and
didn't I see you walking round and round the garden for nearly two hours
to-day choosing all the sweetest things--moss roses, and sweetbrier, and
sprays of clematis? Of course there's a fuss made about him, though
nothing is said. I know what I shall find him--There, I'm not going to
say it--I would not vex you for worlds, Fan dear."

Frances smiled.

"I must start now, dear," she said, "or he will have reached the house
before I leave it. Do you want to come with me, Fluff? You may if you
like."

"No, I won't. I'm ever so tired, and people who are fussed about are
dreadfully uninteresting. Do start for your walk, Frances, or you won't
be in time to welcome your hero."

Frances started off at once. She was amused at Fluff's words.

"It is impossible for the little creature to guess anything," she said
to herself; "that would never do. Philip should be quite unbiased. It
would be most unfair for him to come here as anything but a perfectly
free man. Ten years ago he said he loved me; but am I the same Frances?
I am older; father says I am old for twenty-eight--then I was eighteen.
Eighteen is a beautiful age--a careless and yet a grave age. Girls are
so full of desires then; life stretches before them like a brilliant
line of light. Everything is possible; they are not really at the top of
the hill, and they feel so fresh and buoyant that it is a pleasure to
climb. There is a feeling of morning in the air. At eighteen it is a
good thing to be alive. Now, at eight-and-twenty one has learned to take
life hard; a girl is old then, and yet not old enough. She is apt to be
overworried; I used to be, but not since his letter came, and to-night I
think I am back at eighteen. I hope he won't find me much altered. I
hope this dress suits me. It would be awful now, when the cup is almost
at my lips, if anything dashed it away; but, no! God has been very good
to me, and I will have faith in Him."

All this time Frances was walking up-hill. She had now reached the
summit of a long incline, and, looking ahead of her, saw a dusty
traveler walking quickly with the free-and-easy stride of a man who is
accustomed to all kinds of athletic exercises.

"That is Philip," said Frances.

Her heart beat almost to suffocation; she stood still for a moment, then
walked on again