was young and gay and very beautiful. She played and laughed and
talked with me. She was the loveliest soul I ever knew. You are very
much like her. I have wanted you for a friend. I never had a sister
but if I could have had I should have asked for a girl like you."

Oh, Nanny sensed the pitiful, childish loneliness of that plea! The
wistfulness of the boy stabbed through her really tender heart. But
Nanny Ainslee was a joyous, laughter-loving creature. And the idea of
this boy whom already she half loved asking her to be his _friend_, his
_sister_! Oh, it was childishly funny. How her father would chuckle
if he knew that she who had dismissed so many suitors with platonic
friendliness and sisterly solicitude was now being offered that same
platonic friendliness and brotherly love. It was too much for Nanny's
sense of humor!

So Nanny giggled. She giggled disgracefully and could not stop
herself,--giggled even though she knew that the tall boy beside her was
flushing a painful red and slowly freezing into a hurt and painful
silence. But she could not save herself or him.

"You had better let me cut you a few more sprays," he said at last
curtly.

She let him lay them in her arms and they walked to church in absolute
silence. Nanny never knew that any living man could be so stubbornly
silent. She was sorry and she wanted to tell him so. But he gave her
no chance. It seemed he was a young man who never asked for things
twice. Nanny was sorry but she was also, for some incomprehensible
reason, angry. And the sorrier she grew the angrier she became.
Cynthia's son seemed not to notice. He walked straight on into the