“They will be a great treat to us,” he said. “My mother is very fond of flowers. Will you come upstairs and see her? We shall find afternoon tea going on, I expect.” So the rejected flowers found a resting place in the clergyman's house; and Brian, coming in from his rounds, was greeted by a sight which made his heart beat at double time. In the drawing room beside his grandmother sat Erica, her little fur hat pushed back, her gloves off, busily arranging Christmas roses and red camellias. Her anger had died away, she was talking quite merrily. It seemed to Brian more like a beautiful dream than a bit of every-day life, to have her sitting there so naturally in his home; but the note of pain was struck before long. “I must go home,” she said. “This is my last day, you know. I am going to Paris tomorrow.” A sort of sadness seemed to fall on them at the words; only gentle Mrs. Osmond said, cheerfully: “You will come to see us again when you come back, will you not?” And then, with the privilege of the aged, she drew down the young, fresh face to hers and kissed it. “You will let me see you home,” said Brian. “It is getting dark.” Erica laughingly protested that she was well used to taking care of herself, but it ended in Brian's triumphing. So together they crossed the quiet square. Erica chattered away merrily enough, but as they reached the narrow entrance to Guilford Terrace a shadow stole over her face. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “this is the last time I shall come home for two whole years.” “You go for so long,” said Brian, stifling a sigh. “You won't forget your English friends?” “Do you mean that you count yourself our friend?” asked Erica, smiling. “If you will let me.” “That is a funny word to use,” she replied, laughing. “You see we are treated as outlaws generally. I don't think any one ever said 'will you let' to me before. This is our house; thank you for seeing me home.” Then with a roguish look in her eyes, she added demurely, but with a slight emphasis on the last word, “Good bye, my friend.” Brian turned away sadly enough; but he had not gone far when he heard flying footsteps, and looking back saw Erica once more. “Oh, I just came to know whether by any chance you want a kitten,” she said; “I have a real beauty which I want to find a nice home for.” Of course Brian wanted a kitten at once; one would have imagined by the eagerness of his manner that he was devoted to the whole feline tribe. “Well, then, will you come in and see it?” said Erica. “He really is a very nice kitten, and I shall go away much happier if I can see him settled in life first.” She took him in, introduced him to her mother, and ran off in search of the cat, returning in a few minutes with a very playful-looking tabby. “There he is,” she said, putting the kitten on the table with an air of pride. “I don't believe he has an equal in all London. “What do you call him?” asked Brian.