"What a tall girl you are growing into!" he said, encircling her waist with one arm. "Your mother was like you at fourteen. . . . Did she ever tell you how she first met your father? Well, I'll tell you then. Your father was a schoolboy of fifteen, and one day he saw the most wonderful little girl riding a polo pony out of the Park. Her mother was riding with her. And he lost his head, and ran after her until she rode into the Academy stables. And in he went, headlong, after her, and found her dismounted and standing with her mother; and he took off his hat, and he said to her mother: 'I've run quite a long way to tell you who I am: I am Colonel Gerard's son, Austin. Would you care to know me?' "And he looked at the little girl, who had curls precisely like yours, and the same little nose and mouth. And that little girl, who is now your mother, said very simply: 'Won't you come home to luncheon with us? May he, mother? He has run a very long way to be polite to us.' "And your mother's mother looked at the boy for a moment, smiling, for he was the image of his father, who had been at school with her. Then she said: 'Come to luncheon and tell me about your father. Your father once came a thousand miles to see me, but I had started the day before on my wedding-trip.' * * * * * "And that is how your father first met your mother, when she was a little girl." Drina laughed: "What a funny boy father was to run after a strange girl on a polo pony! . . . Suppose--suppose he had not seen her, and had not run after her. . . . Where would I be now, Uncle Philip? . . . Could you please tell me?" "Still aloft among the cherubim, sweetheart." "But--whose uncle would you be? And who would Boots have found for a comrade like me? . . . It's a good thing that father ran after that polo pony. . . . Probably God arranged it. Do you think so?" "There is no harm in thinking it," he said, smiling. "No; no harm. I've known for a long while that He was taking care of Boots for me until I grow up. Meanwhile, I know some very nice Harvard freshmen and two boys from St. Paul and five from Groton. That helps, you know." "Helps what?" asked Selwyn, vastly amused. "To pass the time until I am eighteen," said the child serenely, helping herself to another soft, pale-green chunk of the aromatic paste. "Uncle Philip, mother has forbidden me--and I'll tell her and take my punishment--but would you mind telling me how you first met my Aunt Alixe?" Selwyn's arm around her relaxed, then tightened. "Why do you ask, dear?" he said very quietly. "Because I was just wondering whether God arranged that, too." Selwyn looked at her a moment. "Yes," he said grimly; "nothing happens by chance." "Then, when God arranges such things, He does not always consider our happiness." "He gives us our chance, Drina."