The homeward walk was somewhat of a silent one. Harold was unusually quiet, and Genevieve was wondering just how and when peace and happiness were to reign once more in the Hexagon Club. She was wondering, too, if ever she could be just the same to Tilly--unless Tilly had first something to say to her. As it happened, Genevieve's questions were answered, in a way, before she slept; for, after she had gone up to bed that night, there came a ring at the doorbell, followed, a moment later, by a tap at her door. "It do be a note for you, Miss Genevieve," explained Nancy. "A note--for me?" "Yes, Miss; from Miss Tilly, I think. She's down at the door with her brother." Genevieve did not answer. Her eyes were devouring the note. "DEAR GENEVIEVE:--" Tilly had written. "I'm so ashamed I just can't live till you tell me you forgive me. I have begged Howard to take me down there. I know I never, never can sleep till I've asked your pardon for being so perfectly horrid this morning. Will you ever, ever forgive and love me again? "Your miserable, remorseful "TILLY. "P. S. I think what you did was just the bravest, loveliest thing I ever saw a girl do. "T. M. "P. S. again. I'm so late I'm afraid you've gone to bed; but if you haven't, and if you do forgive me, come to your window and wave to me. I shall watch with what Quentina would call soulful, hungry eyes. "T." "That's all right; thank you, Nancy. There isn't any answer," smiled Genevieve as she closed the door. The next moment she darted across the room, plucked a great pink aster from the vase on the table, hurried to the window and threw up the screen. Below she saw the automobile and the two figures therein. Faintly visible, too, was the upturned face of the girl, containing, presumably, the "hungry, soulful eyes." The next moment, plump into Tilly's lap, fell a huge pink aster. CHAPTER XXI GENEVIEVE LEARNS SOMETHING NOT IN BOOKS School, in an amazingly short time, fell into its customary routine. Genevieve, it is true, did not cease to pine for long, free hours out of doors; but with as good grace as she could muster she submitted to the inevitable.