Now Sybil, who had read his signs of love aright from the first, was greatly admired and honestly liked by young Galt, and he was quick to turn to her when he needed a friend at court. Sybil had noted the swift disappointment clouding his face when he learned that it was not Dorothy who shared the honors of the twenty-fifth of June with Mrs. Lawton. More, with swift intuition she had even guessed the exact gift he wished to offer her young sister; for, being very short of fans, Mrs. Lawton, when on dress parade, nearly always took Dorrie's little fan from her, with "Just for a moment, my dear," which moment generally reached to her final withdrawal, while the owner meantime crimped up a sheet of newspaper with which to fan her flushed cheeks or defend herself from the persistent fly. And Galt's brows would knit and his lips twitch nervously as he helplessly noted the need of his Violet Girl. So it was easy to guess, when Mrs. Lawton had, with joyous abandon, confided to him the date of the double birthday, that a fan for his adored was the first thought that sprang into his mind, and lo! the name of Sybil dashed all his hopes to flinders. Though she laughed at his disappointed face, she felt sorry for him too, and determined to help him to his wish if possible, for she argued: "He simply can't help himself; he is forced to accept that coy hint--not more than a yard broad--of mamma's offering, but I think he is a gentleman sufficiently well-bred not to humiliate us with extravagant offerings, and he ought to have the pleasure of remembering Dorrie." So: "Mr. Galt!" she cried, "will you help me fasten up a bit of vine on the side of the house? It's just above my reach." And, as he obediently followed her, she continued: "Now, you may weep unobserved." He looked frowningly at her, and she went on: "You are not going to deny your vexed disappointment, are you?" A wry smile twisted his lips as he murmured: "I beg your pardon-- I did not mean-- I was not aware----" "No, I suppose not," she laughed; "but you must better control your features or wear a good heavy veil, to hide them, after this." "Good Lord! What an idiot you must think me," he said. "But honesty is the best policy, and I admit I want awfully to offer a certain trifle to Dor--to Miss Dorothy, and I fancied the opportunity had arrived, and--and----" "And it hadn't!" laughed Sybil. "But see here, now, you don't know much about our family--you are a stranger to us." "Oh! Miss Sybil!" gasped Leslie Galt. "That's downright cruel. You said the other day----" "Do be still!" snapped Sybil, "and attend to what I am saying. You are--or you ought to be--a stranger yet to the Lawton family history. You have learned of a double birthday, and you wish to mark the occasion with some small remembrances; but, for the life of you, being a stranger, you can't remember which girl it is who shares the day with Mrs. Lawton, therefore----"