"On the contrary, and I like him for writing it," said Basil. "Wythie, there will never come anything between us? We shall not be parted as were this other B. R., and Oswyth Grey? I am still in college, but when I begin life you are coming to begin it with me in the Caldwell house, aren't you? We know you are, both of us, but I have been feeling lately that I wanted to hear you say it." Oswyth trembled. She had known that Basil's first preference for her had grown into a devoted love, and she knew that she would have had no courage to face the years if they did not include Basil. Gentle Wythie had gone on to this moment without a fear, quietly unfolding without doubt or dread. But, after all, it meant so much, and for a moment the girl paused. Then she looked up into Basil's face. "It couldn't be otherwise, Basil, because it is just as Oswyth Grey wrote here: All of life," she said. Basil bowed his head for a speechless moment. "God helping me this Oswyth shall never be unhappy," he said. Then a great joy seized him, and he was silent, holding back the expression of it, for Wythie's dove eyes looked up, half frightened, at the new, manly Basil beside her. And before either could speak Rob's voice rang out, and Rob's step came up the lower flight of stairs. "Where are you two? Basil, Wythie, what has happened to you?" she called. "Have you fallen into a trunk, and are we going to have a case of the Mistletoe Bough right here in the little grey house and our own attic?" She appeared at the foot of the attic stairs, peering up through the gathering darkness. "We opened Oswyth Grey's chest--Basil wanted to see its contents--and it took longer than we realized," said Wythie coming to the head of the stairs. "Here is her white brocade with the violets; I shall wear this in the gavotte." Wythie's voice sounded unnatural; Rob pounced on her the moment she descended, and glanced at Basil, following her with his eyes alight as they had never been before. "What have you been doing?" she demanded. "Reading Oswyth Grey's letters? Wythie, what has kept you? Weren't you cold?" "Oh, no; it is as warm--" began Wythie. "'As springtime, the only pretty ring time,'" supplemented Basil. "Wythie, tell me!" insisted Rob. "Not now; wait until to-night," said Wythie, and escaped with Oswyth Grey's white brocade all bestrewn with violets. "If I have to wait until to-night there's nothing to wait for; I know this minute," muttered Rob. Then she turned fiercely upon Basil. "Basil, I thought we could trust you," she said. "Nonsense, Rob, you knew quite well what was coming," retorted Basil with a quiet laugh of triumph. "Does that make me like it?" she demanded. "My blessed Wythie! How do you expect me to go down again to the rest?" "Shall I send Bruce up?" inquired Basil blandly.