“Oh, pray do,” she clasps her hands entreatingly, and he goes away in search of the article. Returning with a light, convenient step-ladder, he places it against the side of the house beneath the window. Her voice arrests him as he is about to ascend it. “Oh, if you please, Mr. Delaney, I should like a bunch of your nice roses,” this rather timidly. “Should you?” he says, surprised; then he looks around him at his beautiful garden glowing with all the lavish wealth of July--roses and lilies, and all the sweet sisterhood of flowers. From the green bowers and blooming beds of the garden, he lifts a keen glance to the upper windows of his stately house. The blinds are tightly closed at every window, an air of gloom and desertion pervades the scene. His glance goes back to that girlish face that is sweeter than all his flowers. “You love flowers?” he says. “Oh, so much!” she breathes, clasping her hands in pretty unconscious earnestness. “I wish that your garden were mine!” “Are you aware that you are transgressing the tenth commandment?” he inquires, dryly. “Am I? I don’t care. I can’t help envying you that splendid garden. You may have your house, and its ghosts, and welcome, but I do want your flowers.” “Ghosts,” he says, and a slight frown darkens on his brow. “Yes, there _are_ ghosts in that big, gloomy house, aren’t there? People say so, at least,” she answers. He makes no answer. The half smile he has worn until now fades from his face. He remains lost in thought a moment, then abruptly turns the subject. “Since you like flowers so well, you may come down and take all you want.” “How?” she asks, bewildered. “Down the ladder,” he replies, carelessly, and Aline catches her breath. To be permitted to set foot in that lovely spot, than which it seems to her the garden of Eden had not been lovelier--to fill her hands with those exquisite flowers, and her heart and soul with their fragrance. It seems too good to be true. But, down the ladder? Would that be right? A premonitory vision of mamma’s horror darted into her mind. She set the temptation side by side with the scolding and the punishment, and weighed them, and, a true daughter of Mother Eve, she let her own willful desires triumph. It was so pleasant to think of escaping from that stifling chamber, and reveling in green grass and tender flowers and springing fountains. She asked herself if it could be very wrong to escape from her prison for a very little while? As for descending the ladder, she did not mind that very much. I am ashamed to state that my heroine had been reproachfully accused of tomboyish propensities by her relations. She looked down a little wistfully into Oran Delaney’s dark, proud face. “Do you think it would be very wrong if I came down?” she said. “I cannot see where the harm would be,” he replied, lightly. “Then, if you will go away down that path there, I will come down the ladder and get some roses,” said Aline; and he laughed and walked away.