"Then--then I'll try. I would rather stay with Mr. Blake when you go away, but if you want me to, I'll live with the young man." "You will like him. He is only twenty years old, and he wants to go to college when he gets money enough. So he is glad to do tutoring now. That means helping a younger boy to learn." "He will laugh at me," remarked Bert, looking off moodily. "I would rather stay with Mr. Blake and paint the snow on the evergreens." "Oh, no, dear," said Mrs. Lowell. "That wouldn't please your grandfather. Besides, wouldn't you miss me?" "I don't like Mr. Lowell," remarked the boy. His friend laughed and took his hand between both her own. "We shall all love each other," she said, "and I shall hope to see you every day." Bert thoughtfully visualized the boat carrying her away without him, and decided to be glad of the other horn of the dilemma. He had learned to smile, and he did so now, looking at her so trustfully that she patted his hand as she laid it down. "That's a good boy," she said. On the morning after the concert, Mrs. Wilbur regarded her child rather anxiously. "Is it ever considered malarial here?" she asked. "The opposite extreme," said Diana. "Well, you look pale. You stayed out of doors too long. The night air anywhere--" "Oh, but it has such a pleasant way of growing warmer here at evening. I wasn't cold, indeed, Mamma." "And I heard that divine voice going back through the field singing Rubinstein," said Mrs. Wilbur. She sighed. "I am glad you are so matter-of-fact, Diana. He made me feel like a matinée girl, that man." Mrs. Wilbur was already planning her autumn musicale, and in fancy saw the air dark with automobiles parked in rows about the Wilbur residence in Pittsfield. She left Diana now to go upstairs to make her list, and the girl went out of doors to gather sweet peas for the living-room. Pausing when her hands were full of the color and fragrance, she turned about to view the fresh morning landscape. As she did so she heard a gay whistling that grew louder as it neared. "The owl and the pussy cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat--" The thrill of delicious terror, which had come over her on waking from her short sleep that morning, constricted her heart now. Philip approached. "Good-morrow, fair one; posing for a study of Aurora?" Diana looked around at him with deliberation. "I was deciding what individuals of the fauna and flora here were most marked." Philip ducked his face down into her bouquet. "You chose the sweet pea, of course." "No, I decided on swallows and daisies. The swallows are ravishing: so fearless and so beautiful. Have you noticed how they dart past, nearly brushing our cheeks, and how the sun brings out glints of blue in their plumage? I often mistake them for bluebirds with that touch of color on their breasts."