"Oh, no!" returned Dorothy, shaking her head with wise decision, "I don't think it's Count Storri. But of course I wouldn't tell mamma so; she doesn't like to be contradicted. Still," and here Dorothy looked quite wistful, "I wish I knew who did send them." Before Richard could take up the delicate question of the roses and their origin, there arrived the word of Senator Hanway that he be shown into the study. "Now that I'm a working journalist, Miss Harley," said Richard, "I shall be obliged to see your uncle every day." "Oh, dear!" exclaimed Dorothy, with a fine sympathy; "how hard they drive you poor newspaper people!" "Still, we go not without our rewards," returned Richard. Then observing that Senator Hanway's messenger--who had not those reasons for loitering which made slow the feet of Richard--was already halfway down the hall, Richard took Dorothy's small hand in his, and, before she knew her peril or might make an effort to avoid it, rapturously kissed the fingers, not once, not twice, but five times. The very fingers themselves burned with the scandal of it! Following this deed of rapine, Richard went his vandal way; Dorothy's face turned a twin red with the roses. Dorothy said nothing in rebuke of Richard, and it is to be assumed that, so flagrant an outrage left her without breath to voice her condemnation. That she was disturbed to the heart is sure, for she went instantly to her friend, the sibyl of the golden locks, for conference, confidence, and consolation. "Wasn't he wretchedly bold, Bess?" said Dorothy in an awe-stricken whisper. "Absolutely abandoned!" said Bess. Then the two sat in silence for ten impressive seconds. "Bess," remarked Dorothy tentatively, "suppose mamma were to forbid me loving one whom I loved----" Here she broke down, aghast. "My dear Dorothy," cried the other, surprised into deepest concern, "your mother didn't see him kissing your fingers, did she?" "Oh, no, Bess," said Dorothy hurriedly, "we were quite alone." "You foolish girl," returned Bess. "You alarmed me!" "But really, Bess," persisted Dorothy, "to put it this way: if your mamma insisted, would you give way and marry a man you didn't love?" "You mean Count Storri," replied Bess. "Now, Dorothy, listen to me. In the first place, you are an arrant hypocrite. You pretend to be soft and powerless and yielding, and to appeal to me for counsel. And all the time you are twice as obstinate as I am, and much less likely to accept a man you don't love, or give up one whom you love." "Well, Bess," said Dorothy defensively, a bit stricken of these truths, "really, I want your opinions on marriage." "Oh, that is it! Then snap your fingers in the teeth of command, and marry no man whom you do not love!" "But the man you love might not want you!" sighed Dorothy. "The man you love will always want you," declared Bess with firmness. "How sweet you are!"