She, on her side, interpreted him no better. His self-restraint she called coldness; and, when he failed to respond to a softened mood, she felt that her affection found no response in his heart. This morning she was unconsciously in a frame of mind which would render her dissatisfied, whatever his attitude: had he divined her relenting, she would have thought him presuming, as now she called him cold. The only comfort Tom might extract from such a situation was the fact, hardly likely to occur to him, that she was a thousand times more displeased with herself than with him. "Good-morning," the gentleman said, stepping upon the piazza. "Good-morning," she returned, keeping her face from him. "It is a right royal day after the storm," he said, rather for the sake of saying something than from any active interest in the weather. "Yes," she assented laconically. "How do your theatricals come on?" asked he. "'As the man went to be hung,--very slowly,' to use Will's slang, or figure of speech as Flossy calls it." "This world," the lawyer said rather irrelevantly, "is chiefly figures of speech." "What does that signify?" "It signifies that you think of our talk yesterday hyperbolically." Patty felt herself growing flushed and perturbed. Their conversation hid completely the sentiments underlying it. Her tenderness was met by apparent indifference. What was this talk of figures of speech, when he should have said simply "I love you." "On the contrary," she replied, "I do not think of our conversation yesterday at all." "Then, why do you so resolutely keep your face from me?" "Certainly not because I said any thing yesterday that I am ashamed of." Putnam took from his pocket her note, and read aloud the postscript. "It is very generous in you to fling that in my face," she exclaimed, turning suddenly. "It was abominable," he laughed; "but it made you show your face, and that's worth sinning for." "Why did you keep my note?" she asked, as he carefully replaced it in his pocket-book. "You told me once you never kept any letters but business ones." "Oh! I always preserve yours. Every rule has its exception." "I am flattered," she said, softening a little. "You've no reason to be," he retorted saucily. "I only keep them because I suppose you are sure to demand them some time; and, if I couldn't return them, you'd say I kept them." "Then, I demand them now." "You shall have them when you give me mine." "You may have them this minute," she exclaimed. "Ah!" retorted he, laughing. "I have discovered what I wanted to know. You have cared enough for them to keep them." "You are the most hateful man on the face of the earth!" she said angrily, running into the house, and up to her own chamber.