commencement. I had heard her tell Richard
so. I had heard her repeat her intention since her son's return. _He_,
of course, would feel interested in meeting his old class mates and
friends. They would all feel interested in seeing and hearing how
Richard Clyde sustained his proud distinction.

"Gabriella, especially," said Edith with a smile, which, sweet as it
was, I thought extremely silly. I blushed with vexation, when Ernest,
lifting his grave eyes from his book, asked who was Richard Clyde.

"You have seen him when he was quite a youth," answered his mother, "but
have probably forgotten him. He is a young man of great promise, and has
been awarded the first honors of his class. I feel a deep interest in
him for his own sake, and moreover I am indebted to him for my
introduction to our own Gabriella."

"Indeed!" repeated her son, and glancing towards me, his countenance
lighted up with a sudden look of intelligence.

Why need Mrs. Linwood have said that? Why need she have associated him
so intimately and significantly with me? And why could I not keep down
the rising crimson, which might be attributed to another source than
embarrassment? I opened my lips to deny any interest in Richard beyond
that of friendly acquaintanceship; but Mrs. Linwood's mild, serene, yet
resolute eyes, beat mine down and choked my eager utterance.

Her eyes said as clearly as words could say, "what matters it to my son,
how little or how great an interest you feel in Richard Clyde or any
other person?"

"You must accompany us, Gabriella," she said, with great kindness. "You
have never witnessed this gathering of the literati of our State, and I
know of no one who would enjoy it more. It will be quite an intellectual
banquet."

"I thank you, but I cannot accept the invitation," I answered,
suppressing a sigh, not of disappointment at the necessity of refusal,
but of mortification at the inference that would probably be drawn from
this conversation. "My vacation does not begin till afterwards."

"I think I can intercede with Mr. Regulus to release you," said Mrs.
Linwood.

"Thank you,--I do not wish to go,--indeed I would much rather not,
unless," I added, fearful I had spoken too energetically, "you have an
urgent desire that I should."

"I wish very much to make you happy, and I think you would enjoy far
more than you now anticipate. But there is time enough to decide. There
will be a fortnight hence."

"But the dresses, mam