“The woodmen’s blows responsive ring, As on the trees they fall, And when the birds their sweet notes sing, They to each other call. From the dark valley comes a bird, And seeks the lofty tree, _Ying_ goes its voice, and thus it cries: ‘Companion, come to me.’ The bird, although a creature small Upon its mate depends, And shall we men, who rank o’er all, Not seek to have our friends?” quoted Mr. Spring Fragrance. Mrs. Spring Fragrance tapped his shoulder approvingly with her fan. “I perceive,” said young Carman, “that you are both allied against my peace.” “It is for your mother,” replied Mrs. Spring Fragrance soothingly. “She will be happy when she knows that your affections are fixed by marriage.” There was a slight gleam of amusement in the young man’s eyes as he answered: “But if my mother has no wish for a daughter—at least, no wish for the daughter I would want to give her?” “When I first came to America,” returned Mrs. Spring Fragrance, “my husband desired me to wear the American dress. I protested and declared that never would I so appear. But one day he brought home a gown fit for a fairy, and ever since then I have worn and adored the American dress.” “Mrs. Spring Fragrance,” declared young Carman, “your argument is incontrovertible.” II A young man with a determined set to his shoulders stood outside the door of a little cottage perched upon a bluff overlooking the Sound. The chill sea air was sweet with the scent of roses, and he drew in a deep breath of inspiration before he knocked. “Are you not surprised to see me?” he inquired of the young person who opened the door. “Not at all,” replied the young person demurely. He gave her a quick almost fierce look. At their last parting he had declared that he would not come again unless she requested him, and that she assuredly had not done. “I wish I could make you feel,” said he. She laughed—a pretty infectious laugh which exorcised all his gloom. He looked down upon her as they stood together under the cluster of electric lights in her cozy little sitting-room. Such a slender, girlish figure! Such a soft cheek, red mouth, and firm little chin! Often in his dreams of her he had taken her into his arms and coaxed her into a good humor. But, alas! dreams are not realities, and the calm friendliness of this young person made any demonstration of tenderness well-nigh impossible. But for the shy regard of her eyes, you might have thought that he was no more to her than a friendly acquaintance. “I hear,” said she, taking up some needlework, “that your Welland case comes on tomorrow.” “Yes,” answered the young lawyer, “and I have all my witnesses ready.” “So, I hear, has Mr. Greaves,” she retorted. “You are going to have a hard fight.”