"Of course there WERE women here" interrupted Yerba, quickly, with
a half-meaning, half-interrogative glance at Paul that made him
instinctively uneasy. "You later comers"--to Milly--"always seem
to think that there was nothing here before you!" She paused, and
then added, with a naive mixture of reproach and coquetry that was
as charming as it was unexpected, "As to taking care of each other,
Mr. Hathaway very quickly got rid of me, I believe."

"But I left you in better hands, Miss Yerba; and let me thank you
now," he added in a lower tone, "for recognizing it as you did a
moment ago. I'm glad that you instinctively liked Colonel
Pendleton. Had you known him better, you would have seen how
truthful that instinct was. His chief fault in the eyes of our
worthy friends is that he reminds them of a great deal they can't
perpetuate and much they would like to forget." He checked himself
abruptly. "But here is your letter," he resumed, drawing Colonel
Pendleton's missive from his pocket, "perhaps you would like to
read it now, in case you have any message to return by me. Miss
Woods and I will excuse you."

They had reached the end of the rose-alley, where a summer-house
that was in itself a rose-bower partly disclosed itself. The other
gentlemen had lagged behind. "I will amuse MYSELF, and console
your other guardian, dear," said the vivacious Milly, with a rapid
exchange of glances with Yerba, "until this horrid business is
over. Besides," she added with cheerful vagueness, "after so long
a separation you must have a great deal to say to each other."

Paul smiled as she rustled away, and Yerba, entering the summer-