at her failure to enlighten him and promised to tell
him on Monday.

Botany was not one of her tasks but she felt the
tribute to her personality in his question, and she
would take pains to make her answer full and
interesting.

Saturday afternoon she hurried to the Public
Library, on Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street, to
look up every reference to this flower.

The boulevard of the Metropolis was thronged with
eager thousands. Handsome men and beautifully dressed
women passed each other in endless procession on its
crowded pavements. The cabs and automobiles, two
abreast on either side, moved at a snail's pace, so
dense were the throngs at each crossing. Her fancy was
busy weaving about each throbbing tonneau and
limousine a story of love. Not a wheel was turning in
all that long line of shining vehicles that didn't
carry a woman or was hurrying to do a woman's bidding.

Her hero was coming, too, somewhere in the crowd
with his gloved hand on one of those wheels. She could
feel his breath on her cheek as he handed her into the
seat by his side and then the sudden leap of the car
into space and away on the wings of lightning into the
future!