Daphne sat in a low little crimson arm-chair exactly opposite her, clasping her knees, her brown eyes fixed with the greatest interest as Mrs. Foster turned and turned the pages as if unable to select a suitable verse. Then she began to read, in her soft, yet rather high voice, which seemed suited only to gentle greetings and adieux, or quavering orders to Henry. "NIGHT TIME _He glanced as he passed, And I hope, and I quiver, I howl and I shudder with pains; And like a she-tiger Or overcharged river, My blood rushes on through my veins._" She stopped suddenly. "No, no, dear. I won't read this. Wait a minute. I remember now that was the one that was returned because it was too--er----I'll find you another one." "Oh, do finish that one," said Daphne, "please! Isn't the light too much for your eyes?" She jumped up quickly and pulled down the blind an inch or two, and then came back, having controlled herself. Mrs. Foster looked at her rather sharply, and took no notice of what she supposed was emotion. "Ah, here is something more suited to you, darling." SPRING A QUESTION, AND AN ANSWER _Will all the year be summer-time, And each night have a moon? Ah no, the Spring will quickly go, And winter cometh soon._ _And will your clasp warm mine like wine? And will you love me true? Ah no, the autumn leaves arrive, And we must bid adieu._ "That's a rather pretty thing, in its way, isn't it?" she said. "Very." "Here's one more. A REMEMBRANCE _Seems it well to see A wild honey bee Gold in the sun, Ere day is done, Sitting on a rose, As the summer time grows._ _Ah, the bold, brave days, Ere the glass of Time 'Neath the sun's rays, Like a flame of fire,-- And the_ ..." She stopped again. "No, I don't think this is quite----" "Do, do go on!" Mrs. Foster looked at her. "You have a great deal of sensibility, Daphne. I believe you have tears in your eyes." "No, I haven't really." She turned away her head, nearly choking. A loud knock was heard at the front door. Mrs. Foster looked out of the window. "It's Cyril!" she exclaimed. "He's got away after all. Quick! Quick!" She threw the book under a cushion and sat on it. With trembling fingers she took up some needlework out of a basket. "Not a word--not a word! Go and meet him in the hall, dear. He's come to give us a surprise. I'll wait." Blushing and laughing Daphne ran downstairs. CHAPTER XVII ENGAGED