It was the close of New Year's Day, and Lily and Ada Lawrence stood together in the grand drawing-room, their arms fondly interlaced, the glow of firelight and gaslight shining down like a blessing on their golden heads. Ada was perfectly lovely in an elegant costume of white cashmere and blue brocaded silk. The only ornaments of her fair girlish beauty were knots of fragrant blue and white violets. "My darling sister," said the younger girl affectionately, "you look very weary. Sit down here in this comfortable arm-chair and rest." She drew forward the chair as she spoke, but before Lily could seat herself two more visitors were announced. They were Lancelot Darling and Philip St. John. Lancelot's friend was duly presented to Lily, and after a little friendly chatter Lance stole away with his darling to the quiet library. "My dearest, I am very selfish," he said to her fondly. "I want you all to myself, that I may look at you, listen to you, and feel that my happiness is real, and not a dream from which I may awaken to the pangs of bereavement!" They sat down together on a low divan before the glowing fire. Lancelot drew the golden head down upon his breast and pressed passionate, lingering kisses on the sweet red lips of his long-lost darling. "My darling," he whispered, presently, "our wedding-day has been long deferred, When shall I have the happiness of claiming you before all the world?" "Papa and Ada could not bear to give me up yet," said Lily, smiling at his eagerness. "I do not want to be selfish, love," he said; "I know you wish to stay with them a little longer, and I know how hard it would be to them to give you up now. But you must pity my loneliness and come to me soon." "I want to get my roses back first," she answered, demurely. "I am so weak and weary from all that I have suffered that I should be a pale and faded bride if I came to you now. You must wait, dear Lance, until I grow strong and well again before I don the bridal veil." "How long must I wait, then?" he inquired. "Till the roses come again," she answered; "you know how I love the summer, with its beautiful sunshine and fragrant flowers. I should like for the happiest event of my life to be associated with the sweetest month in the year. Let it be in June." Lance was beginning a passionate protest when the door opened and Mr. Lawrence entered. The banker looked very bright and happy as his eyes fell on the handsome pair before him. "Here, papa," said Lily, making room for him beside her; "I am very glad you have come, for I think Lance was just about to find fault with me." "On what pretext?" inquired her father, kissing her sweet, upturned lips. "For cruelty," said Lance, promptly. "She actually intends to defer our marriage until June."