“I can manage very nicely, thank you,” answered Holly, a trifle haughtily. Winthrop’s smile deepened. “Do you know what I think, Miss Holly?” he asked. “No,” said Holly, looking about her in a very preoccupied way in search of more blossoms. “I think you’re a little bit resentful because I’ve come to share your Eden. I believe you were playing that you were Eve and that you were all alone here except for the serpent.” “Playing!” said Holly, warmly. “Please, how old do you think I am, Mr. Winthrop?” “My dear young lady,” answered Winthrop, gravely, “I wouldn’t think of even speculating on so serious a subject. But supposing you are very, very old, say seventeen――or even eighteen!――still you haven’t, I hope, got beyond the age of make-believe. Why, even I――and, as you will readily see, I have one foot almost in the grave――even I sometimes make-believe.” “Do you?” murmured Holly, very coldly. There was silence for a moment during which Holly added further prizes to her store and Winthrop followed her and watched her in mingled admiration and amusement――admiration for the grace and beauty and sheer youth of her, amusement at her evident resentment. “I’m sorry,” he said presently, slowly and thoughtfully. “At what?” Holly allowed herself a fleeting look at his face. It was very serious and regretful, but the smile still lurked in the dark eyes, and Holly’s vanity flew to arms again. “Sorry that I’ve said something to displease you,” returned Winthrop. “You see, I was hoping to make friends with you, Miss Holly.” Holly thought of a dozen questions to ask, but heroically refrained. “I gathered from Major Cass last evening,” continued Winthrop, “that Northerners are not popular at Waynewood. But you seemed a very kind young lady, and I thought that if I could only win you over to my side you might intercede for me with your aunt. You see, I’d like very much to stay here, but I’m afraid Miss Wayne isn’t going to take to the idea. And now I’ve gone and antagonized the very person I meant to win for an ally.” “I don’t see why you can’t stay here if you want to,” answered Holly. “Waynewood belongs to you.” “But what would I do here all alone?” asked Winthrop. “I’m a frightfully helpless, ignorant chap. Why, I don’t even know how to cook a beefsteak! And as for beaten biscuit――――!” Holly smiled, in spite of herself. “But you could hire some servants, I reckon.” “Oh, I shouldn’t know how to manage them, really. No, the only way in which I can remain here is as your guest, Miss Holly. I’ve asked Major Cass to tell Miss Wayne that, and I’ve no doubt but what he will do all he can for me, but I fancy that a word from you would help a lot, Miss Holly. Don’t you think you could tell your aunt that I am a very respectable sort of a fellow, one who has never been known to give any trouble? I have been with some of the best families and I can give references from my last place, if necessary.”