oaks."

Sylvia noticed a dainty little white box in Rose's lap. "What is
that?" she asked.

"It is a box of candy that dear, sweet Lucy Ayres who sang to-day
made her own self and gave to me," replied Rose. "She came up to me
on the way home from church and slipped it into my hand, and I hardly
know her at all. I do think it is too dear of her for anything. She
is such a lovely girl, and her voice is beautiful." Rose looked
defiantly at Horace. "Mr. Allen has been trying to make me promise
not to eat this nice candy," she said.

"I don't think candy is good for anybody, and girls eat altogether
too much of it," said Horace, with a strange fervor which the
occasion hardly seemed to warrant.

"Wouldn't I know he was a school-teacher when I heard him speak like
that, even if nobody had ever told me?" said Rose. "Of course I am
going to eat this candy that dear Lucy made her own self and gave me.
I should be very ungrateful not to, and I love candy, too."

"I will send for some to Boston to-morrow," cried Horace, eagerly.

Rose regarded him with amazement. "Why, Mr. Allen, you just said you
did not approve of candy at all, and here you are proposing to send
for some for me," she said, "when I have this nice home-made candy, a
great deal purer, because one knows exactly what is in it, and you
say I must not eat this."

Rose took up a sugared almond daintily and put it to her lips, but
Horace was too quick for her. Before she knew what he was about he
had dashed it from her hand, and in the tumult the whole box of candy
was scattered. Horace trampled on it, it was impossible to say
whether purposely or accidentally, in the struggle.

Both Rose and Sylvia regarded him with amazement, mixed with
indignation.

"Why, Mr. Allen!" said Rose. Then she added, haughtily: "Mr. Allen,
you take altogether too much upon yourself. You have spoiled my
candy, and you forget that you have not the least right to dictate to
me what I shall or shall not eat."

Sylvia also turned upon Horace. "Home-made candy wouldn't hurt her,"
she said. "Why, Mr. Allen, what do you mean?"

"Nothing. I am very sorry," said Horace. Then he walked away without
another word, and entered the house. The girl and the woman stood
looking at each other.

"What did he do such a thing for?" asked Rose.

"Goodness knows," said Sylvia.

Rose was quite pale. She began to look alarmed. "You don't suppose
he's taken suddenly insane or anything?" said she.