"But I can't wear it down after I'm 'out,'" said Bertha, reflectively. "I've got beyond that--as I suppose I shall get beyond the frivolity." And she turned to the glass and looked at herself quite simply, and with a soft little air of seriousness which was very bewitching. She regarded herself in this manner for several seconds, and then began slowly to dress her hair, plaiting it into soft thick plaits, which she fastened closely and simply at the nape of her pretty neck. "I believe I'll try not to be _quite_ so frivolous," she said. Perhaps she was making an effort at the accomplishment of this desirable end when she came down to dinner, an hour or so later. Tredennis thought he had never seen her so lovely. He was standing alone in the fire-light, looking doubtfully at something he held in his hand, and she entered so quietly that he started on becoming conscious of her presence. She wore a dress he had not seen before,--a pale gray, soft in material and very simply made, with a little lace kerchief knotted at her throat. She came forward, and laid her hand on the back of a chair. "Papa has not come in--?" she began, then stopped suddenly, with a quick, graceful little turn of her head. "Oh, where is the heliotrope?" she exclaimed. For the room was full of the subtle fragrance of it. He made a rather headlong step forward. "It is here," he said. "I have been out, and I saw a lot of it in a florist's window. I don't know whether it's a flower to wear--and that sort of thing--but I always liked the odor of it. So I brought this home." And he held it out to her. She took it and buried her face in it delightedly. It was a sumptuous handful, and had been cut with unsparing lavishness. He had, in fact, stood by and seen it done. "Ah, I like it so!" she cried. "I do like it--it's lovely." Then she lifted her face, hesitating a second as a new thought occurred to her. She looked up at him with pretty uncertainty, the color rising in her cheeks simply because she was uncertain. "They--I don't know"--she said. "You didn't--they are not for"-- "For you," Tredennis ended for her, hurriedly. "Yes. I don't know why, but I thought of you when I saw them. It's an idea, I suppose. They are for you, if you'll have them." "Ah!" she said, "it was so kind of you! I'm so glad to have them. I have always liked them." She almost hid her bright face in them again, while he stood and watched her, wondering why he felt suddenly tremulous and unreasonably happy. At last she looked up at him again. "I wish this was my 'coming-out' night," she said. "I would wear these. You have given me my first bouquet. I am glad of that." "If I am here on the night of your first party," he answered, "I will give you another, if you will let me." "If you are here?" she said "Are you going away?"