"_Pretty_ is faint praise, mother," said her handsome son, as he came up the steps, and overheard the words. "Miss Lina, how do you do? You have blossomed into a beauty since I last saw you." His college-mate, who had come up the steps with him, peered over his shoulder at the "beauty." He saw a shy, lovely face with dewy-crimson lips, and large, dark eyes with long, black lashes like fringed curtains--chestnut curls, tinged with gold, clustering about a low, broad brow and proudly-set head--a quaint, pretty dress of yellowish India muslin with lace and satin ribbons fluttering about it. Nothing more quaintly sweet and pretty than the dress and its wearer could have been imagined. Jaquelina gave her hand shyly a moment to Walter Earle, then he stepped aside to introduce her to his friend. "Miss Meredith, allow me to present to you my friend, Ronald Valchester." Jaquelina bowed to a tall, grave-looking man with dark hair thrown carelessly back from a high, white brow, and twilight-colored eyes--blue-gray in quiet moments, starry-black in moments of excitement. He touched the girl's slim, brown hand lightly with his firm, white one, then stepped quietly aside a moment later, and allowed Walter Earle to lead her out upon the lawn. "My friend is not what you would call a lady's-man," Walter said to her. "He is a dreamy student, quite absorbed in his books, and yet the best friend and the bravest that man ever had. He is very intellectual, and leads in everything at college. We are all proud of him there. Miss Meredith, you have read of men who stood head and shoulders above their fellows? Valchester is one of them. I could tell you a hundred delightful things that he has done if you----" "Walter, I'll never forgive you if you say another word," said Valchester's voice behind them. Walter turned and saw his friend walking after him with Violet clinging to his arm. "Listeners never hear good of themselves," he retorted, to cover his embarrassment at being overheard. "The old adage is falsified in this case," laughed Valchester, "and for fear of not coming up to the ideal you have raised in Miss Meredith's mind, I shall always tread on thorns in her presence." Walter Earle laughed lightly at the careless metaphor. "Then the path will be rose-strewn, too," he said, "for where there are thorns there are roses." "Talking of roses," said Violet, "reminds me to ask you, Lina, where are the flowers I told you to wear? You forgot them." "No, I did not," said the girl. "I must tell you the truth, Violet; I did not have the time to gather a single flower. I was late as it was; for you see Aunt Meredith needed me so long I could scarcely get away. But I thought perhaps you could spare me a flower." "As many as you like," said Violet, generously. "What will you have? Here we are at the flower-beds. Make your own selection."