Mrs. Gereth, considering, appeared to fall in with the girl's fine humor. "Poynton was too splendidly happy." "Give everything back?" Fleda looked into the pot again and uttered her question with a briskness that she felt to be a little overdone. "Why, by putting the question well before you; by being so eloquent that I shall persuade you, shall act upon you; by making you sorry for having gone so far," she said boldly; "by simply and earnestly asking it of you, in short; and by reminding you at the same time that it's the first thing I ever have so asked. Oh, you've done things for me—endless and beautiful things," she exclaimed; "but you've done them all from your own generous impulse. I've never so much as hinted to you to lend me a postage-stamp."!

"Oh, I came back from Ricks last week. I shall be here now till I don't know when." "I haven't the least idea," said the girl.

"Oh, of course she likes everything that's nice." And Owen, who constitutionally disliked questions—an answer was almost as hateful to him as a "trick" to a big dog—smiled kindly at Fleda and conveyed that she would understand what he meant even if his mother didn't. Fleda, however, mainly understood that Mrs. Gereth, with an odd, wild laugh, held her so hard that she hurt her. Fleda stopped in front of her hostess. "I gave him my opinion that you're very logical, very obstinate, and very proud." "I've got a perfect case—I could have her up. The Brigstocks say it's simple stealing."