roused and warm, he seemed to lift her by some flight
of eloquence, and waft her to his realm of fancy. It annoyed her to find
he had that much power over her.

It must be admitted that when Fred Lawrence willed, he could be
extremely fascinating. Women yielded gracefully, nay, eagerly, to his
sway; and much delicate flattery had their eyes and lips fed him upon.
Sylvie piqued him a trifle by her utter unconcern--or was it the fine
instinct of coquetry inherent in feminine nature?

There was no telling what this queer, bright, unconventional little
thing might do if left to herself. A good marriage would prove her
salvation. She had many womanly possibilities: yet, with all due
deference to Miss Barry and her old blue blood, Sylvie might overstep
the bounds, and take up some of the reforming projects so dear to
elderly spinsters. As Mrs. Fred Lawrence she would be held regally above
them, and could depute her charitable work to her aunt.

In justice to the man, it must be confessed that Sylvie's dainty,
piquant loveliness stirred his soul; and, if self had not been so
intense a centre, he might have been ardently in love, or
clearer-sighted. Much of the time her demeanor toward him was coldly
indifferent: yet the misfortune was, her interest in all things kindled
so easily that she could not, at a moment, change to him. Her moods of
reticence and shy evasion added a flavor to the cup. With a man's
egregious vanity, he jumped at the conclusion that these little
intangible things signified love.

One day Sylvie stumbled over Irene. She came flying up stairs with some
choice nectarines for Mrs. Lawrence, a kind that seemed only to reach
perfection in Miss Barry's old-fashioned garden. There sat Irene,
superb, nonchalant.

"Oh, you little darling!" clasping her, and pinching the peach-bloom
cheek. "I am so glad to have a glimpse of you; for mamma has sung your
praises until I ought to be jealous, but out of my boundless generosity
I still smile upon you. No need to ask how _you_ are, but one may
inquire after your aunt?"

"Miss Barry is quite well," Sylvie said with some constraint,
remembering their last parting.

Irene had honestly forgotten it. She laughed now, a low, ringing,
melodious laugh.

"Why, it is quite a treat to see you open wide your sunrise eyes. I have
taken everybody by surprise, and enjoy it immensely. Gerty and I are off
to fresh fields and pastures new, and home came right in my way. Sylvie,