She paused, in confusion, and Ruth went on, quickly: "I think
they all have associations, and that's why we love them. I can't
bear red geraniums because a cross old woman I knew when I was a
child had her yard full of them, and I shall always love the
lavender," she added, softly, "because it makes me think of you."

Miss Ainslie's checks flushed and her eyes shone. "Now we'll go
into the house," she said, "and we'll have tea."

"I shouldn't stay any longer," murmured Ruth, following her,
"I've been here so long now."

"'T isn't long," contradicted Miss Ainslie, sweetly, "it's been
only a very few minutes."

Every moment, the house and its owner took on new beauty and
charm. Miss Ainslie spread a napkin of finest damask upon the
little mahogany tea table, then brought in a silver teapot of
quaint design, and two cups of Japanese china, dainty to the
point of fragility.

"Why, Miss Ainslie," exclaimed Ruth, in surprise, "where did you
get Royal Kaga?"

Miss Ainslie was bending over the table, and the white hand that
held the teapot trembled a little. "They were a present from--a
friend," she answered, in a low voice.

"They're beautiful," said Ruth, hurriedly.