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"It pleases you to be mysterious, David. Shortly I shall insist upon an explanation.",

I took possession of it and carried it to a bench in the garden that backs up against the purple sprayed lilacs and is flanked by two rows of tall purple and white iris that stand in line ready for a Virginia reel with a delicate row of the poet's narcissus across the broad path. I love my flowers. I love them swaying on their stems in the wind, and I like to snatch them and crush the life out of them against my breast and face. I have been to bed every night this spring with a bunch of cool violets against my cheek, and I feel that I am going to dance with my tall row of hollyhocks as soon as they are old enough to hold up their heads and take notice. They always remind me of very stately gentlemen, and I have wondered if the little narcissus weren't shaking their ruffles at them.,

"You foolish child," he said in the deepest voice I almost ever heard him use. "You are just a lovely perfect flower, but if you will be happier to have Alfred Bennett come and find you as slim as a scarlet runner, I can show you how to do it. Will you do just as I tell you?",

"Yah!" cried Battersea, derisively. "You're out of it. My mother white; but my father--" here he hesitated, and then resumed: "Yes, you're right. Dido; my father was a negro! A Seedee boy, who was a fireman on a P. and O. liner."

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"Good-by," said Jen, and as the door closed behind the doctor he muttered, "and may the devil go with you, for a greater scoundrel does not exist.",

"Well, no!" replied the doctor, with wonderful coolness, "I did not expect that. If the worst came to the worst, I knew that I could protect myself; but I must admit that the confession of my counsel, Mr. Sarby, took me somewhat by surprise.",

"If I haven't forgotten all about Miss Jinny!" she thought remorsefully. "How fearfully self-absorbed I'm getting to be. I'm a perfect pig!",

"There isn't any more goodness in dismal looks, no, nor half so much, as in happy faces. Don't the cherubim sing eternally? Is there anything said about dark days in the New Jerusalem? I'm ashamed of you, Judith Kendall, for not knowing that it's twice as brave and good to be cheerful and pretty as it is to be moping and dull. Look at Elinor—would we love her if she'd been fussing about the hard times we had? Not much! Every bright smile she had for those horrid times has made her more adorable to me and I look on every bit of happiness we had in those poor days as just so much wrested from the powers of darkness." She stopped suddenly, with a little gasp of embarrassment, as Elinor entered.