“I’ll have to go on working,” Ivy told them. “I can’t go to church in the morning unless I get this blouse finished. I’ve nothing else I can possibly wear with my new coat and skirt—and no other gown fit to wear. And I must go to church with the children. It’s one of my charming duties. They wriggle and whisper all the time. So I must get this done, and it will take me all my time. So don’t expect me to entertain you.” “That’s all right,” Miss Smith assured her. “Where are the treasures!” she asked anxiously, looking about the small room apprehensively. It was evident that they had not come to call upon either Dick or Blanche, and it was quite as evident that both the girls were greatly excited. Perhaps Lucille was going to marry George Hitchock after all, then. “Gone to dancing-school with Justine, thank fortune,” their governess answered, “or I never _should_ get this finished. I’ll have to sew half the night as it is. Thank goodness they won’t be back for another hour or more.” “Thank the Lord!” Lucille Smith cried fervently. “Ivy! Is it _true_?” “True? What?” “Did Sên King-lo send you flowers?” Miss Gilbert in her surprise nearly let the new delicate blouse fall upon the schoolroom floor. “Who ever told you that?” she demanded. “Nobody. I heard him myself, heard him order them. I’m almost sure it was your name he gave, you he told the man to send them to. Tom went to talk up Belle’s wedding bouquet—she’s got such a temper, you know, there’d be the devil to pay—right in the church, perhaps—if it wasn’t just exactly as she told Tom to have it made, so he didn’t dare order it over the ’phone or by writing, and he was no end embarrassed, plumb afraid to go alone—so I had to tag along. Well, when Sên King-lo came in, I was mighty glad I had. Say! he knew what he wanted, just how many, just which sort, and about the leaves, and the box; he picked out the box, just a plain white one, ‘nothing fancy,’ and no ribbons. I hoped he’d stop and talk a bit, but he only took off his hat and kept it off—My! isn’t his hair smooth—and Tom was so fidgety I couldn’t make the running myself. If I hadn’t held on to his coat, he’d have bolted and cut out of the store. But I did hear Sên King-lo order violets, and I’ll believe to my dying day it was _you_ he told the clerk to send them to. Was it? Ivy Gilbert, did Sên King-lo send you violets? Tell us this minute!” “Is that what brought you here?” asked Ivy. “You bet it is!” Lucille exclaimed. And Molly added, “And you can bet big!” “Did he?” Lucille begged. “Ivy, did he?” “Yes, he did,” Ivy said chillingly. “Oh!” Lucille cried. “Ivy—how perfectly scrumptious! How heavenly!” And the Senator’s daughter said chokingly, “You lucky, lucky girl!” Ivy regarded them gravely. “I think it rather an insult,” she said smoothly. “Oh!” both the other girls cried. And Lucille Smith added, “Say, Ivy Gilbert, are you insane? Sên King-lo never sent flowers before! Violets from Sên King-lo! And you—” words failed.