He had her two pictures folded away in his vest pocket; and all the time that he trimmed the hedges he listened for the sound of her horse's hoofs or for the chug of her motor. And then, one blissful morning, when he was carrying in an armful of roses for the housekeeper, he ran full upon her in the hall. His heart leaped so that it hurt him; and instead of passing straight on, as he should have done, he stood stock still, and almost spilled his roses on the floor. Miss Gladys's face lighted with pleasure. “Why, it's Samuel!” she exclaimed. “Yes, Miss Gladys,” said he. “And how do you like your position?” “Very well, Miss Gladys,” he replied; and then, feeling the inadequacy of this, he added with fervor, “I'm so happy I can't tell you.” “I'm very glad to hear it,” she said. “And I'm sure you fill it very well.” “I've done the best I can, Miss Gladys,” said he. There was a moment's pause. “You find there is a good deal to learn?” she inquired. “Yes,” he answered. “But you see, it's about flowers, and I was always interested in flowers.” And again there was a pause; and then suddenly Miss Wygant flung a question at him--“Samuel, why do you look at me like that?” Samuel was almost knocked over. “Why--why--” he gasped. “Miss Gladys! I don't--!” “Ah!” she said, “but you do.” Poor Samuel was in an agony of horror. “I--I--really--” he stammered. “I didn't mean it--I wouldn't for the world---” He stopped, utterly at a loss; and Miss Wygant kept her merciless gaze upon him. “Am I so very beautiful?” she asked. This startled Samuel into lifting his eyes. He stared at her, transfixed; and at last he whispered, faintly, “Yes.” “Tell me about it,” she said, and her look shook him to the depths of his soul. He stood there, trembling; he could feel the blood pouring in a warm flood about his throat and neck. “Tell me,” she said again. “You--you are more beautiful than anyone I have ever seen,” he panted. “You are not used to women, Samuel!” “No,” said he. “I'm just a country boy.” She stood waiting for him to continue. “The girls there”--he whispered--“they are pretty--but you--you---” And then suddenly the words came to him. “You are like a princess!” he cried. “Ah, if you ever find your tongue!” she said with a smile; and then after a pause she added, “You don't know how different you are, Samuel.” “Different?” he echoed. “Yes. You are so fresh--so young. You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?” “Yes,” he said. “You'd risk your life for me, as you did for Bertie?” And Samuel answered her with fervor that left no room for doubt. “I wish there was a chance,” she laughed. “But there's only this dull every-day round!” There was a pause; the boy dropped his eyes and stood trembling. “Where are you going with the roses?” she asked. “I'm to take them to the housekeeper.” “Let me have one.”