she conceded.
"And then we can meet them on the way back."

"Thanks," he said; then added, "I thought you weren't very glad to see me
yesterday. You know, I was strongly tempted to take the next steamer
across the Atlantic. Haven't you thought of me at all?"

It was rather a hard question to ask, and Lucile blushed when she
remembered how often she had thought of him and his letters.

"Of course," she said; "and I wrote to you----"

"Just twice," he finished. "I came very near sending you a box of writing
paper--thought there must be a scarcity of it over here."

Lucile laughed her gay little laugh. "That would have been a surprise,"
she chuckled; then, more seriously, "But you know, there are so many
people to write to, and it was awfully hard----"

"Oh, yes, I know all about it," he broke in. "Terribly busy; couldn't
find time, and all that, but if you think very much of somebody, writing
isn't a duty; it's a pleasure."

"But I didn't say," Lucile began; then, desperately, "Oh, please, can't
we talk of something else?"

"Certainly," he agreed, and Lucile sensed the hurt in his voice. "We'll
talk of anything you please. What plans have you made for the day?"

"Why, Dad said he would take us to Paris," said Lucile, instantly sorry
for her little speech, yet afraid to say so. "We simply can't wait to get
there! Of course you are going with us?"

"If I may. I came over with my uncle, you know, and left him in Paris to
transact some important business while I hunted you up. It's a good
little place--the inn, I mean--and I'm glad your father asked me to stay
for the night. It's a charming spot and quite close enough to the city."

"That's what Dad thought. Then, after we have lunch at some swell little
restaurant--you know----"

"Yes, I know," he agreed, laughingly. "Colored lights, and music,
orchestra, and that," and he waved his hand expressively.

"Uh-huh; and after all that, he's going to drop us at the Louvre--oh, how
naturally I speak of it now, and it used to seem like something on a
different planet--while he tries to look up M. Charloix--he gave Dad his
card on shipboard, luckily."

"And then?" he prompted, laughing eyes fixed on the lovely, animated face
at his shoulder.

"Well, then," she continued eagerly, "then comes the very best of all.
We're going somewhere for dinner, then the theater, then dinner again,
oh-h----"

"Just one glorious day of gladness," he laughed; then, noticing her
qui