"Mamma, I am sorry for myself," she moaned, faintly, "so sorry that I wish I were dead!" "For shame, Queenie, to go into such a passion because I scolded you! Get up and stop making a baby of yourself," said her mother severely. Little Queenie dried her eyes at that sharp reproof and went on with her packing, which Mrs. Lyle's entrance had interrupted, for they were to sail for Europe that week, and the house was "topsy-turvey" with their preparations. Her mother sat moodily watching her as she folded silks and laces, and packed them away securely in the great Saratoga trunk. "What have you in that box, Queenie?" she inquired, seeing the girl put a box in the trunk with a half-conscious glance. "You look as if you were smuggling something." Queenie blushed violently, and Mrs. Lyle saw that she trembled as she answered falteringly: "Nothing of any importance, I assure you, mamma." "Let me see," said Mrs. Lyle, resolutely, and she took the box from the trunk and lifted the lid. "Why, what have we here? Flowers--withered flowers! Queenie, why upon earth are you keeping these dead, ill-smelling things? Throw them out of the window." "Oh, no, mamma," cried Queenie, blushing very much and trying to take the box from her mother's hand. But Mrs. Lyle held on to the box and took out three bouquets of withered flowers, and three cards that lay in the bottom of the box. She read aloud: "From an unknown admirer of Miss Queenie Lyle." "Oh dear, dear," said Mrs. Lyle, impatiently; "now I begin to understand. These flowers, which were sent by some impudent fellow, have made a fool of you, Queenie. You have been building a romance over him, and that is why you have no eyes for better men. Tell me the truth now, Queenie; do you know who sent you these flowers?" "How should I know, mamma?" asked the girl, evasively, and turning her crimson face away from her mother's keen scrutiny. "You see he writes himself unknown." "Well, known or unknown, here is an end to _that_ foolishness," said Mrs. Lyle, crossing the room and tossing the luckless flowers out of the window. "I did not know you were so silly and romantic, Queenie, as to carry a bunch of dead flowers to Europe." Queenie stamped her little foot on the floor, and her eyes flashed fire. "Mamma, you had no right to throw my flowers away!" she passionately exclaimed. "Papa would never have intermeddled with my affairs like that!" Mrs. Lyle dropped into a chair and buried her face in her hands. "To think that I should have a child that would treat me so disrespectfully," she sighed. "What has mamma been doing to my little pet?" asked Mr. Lyle, entering quietly and unexpectedly, as he always did. There was an awkward silence for a moment; then Queenie said, with her sweet face turned away: "Mamma has been scolding me because I would not marry Captain Ernscliffe."