Constance laughed happily. “Still, I’m very glad I gave it to you, Swot,” she said, with a glance of the eyes, half shy and half arch, at the man beside her. “Did youse like Miss Constance’s present too, doc?” “Yes,” replied the doctor, “especially the one you haven’t seen, Swot.” “Wot wuz dat?” “A something called hope—which is the finest thing in the world.” “No. There is one thing better,” said Miss Durant. “What is it?” “Love!” whispered Constance, softly.