ever. Do you know," she continued, "I saw you once at the state capital
outside of our grounds the day Bob ran after you. That was when I was in
love with him. We had just come back from Europe then, and I thought he
was the most wonderful person I had ever seen."

If Cynthia had felt any emotion from this disclosure, she did not betray
it. Janet, moreover, was not looking for it.

"What made you change your mind?" asked Cynthia, biting her lip.

"Oh, Bob hasn't the temperament," said Janet, making use of a word that
she had just discovered; "he's too practical--he never does or says the
things you want him to. He's just been out West with us on a trip, and he
was always looking at locomotives and brakes and grades and bridges and
all such tiresome things. I should like to marry a poet," said Miss
Duncan, dreamily; "I know they want me to marry Bob, and Mr. Worthington
wants it. I'm sure, of that. But he wouldn't at all suit me."

If Cynthia had been able to exercise an equal freedom of speech, she
might have been impelled to inquire what young Mr. Worthington's views
were in the matter. As it was, she could think of nothing appropriate to
say, and just then four people entered the room and came towards them.
Two of these were Janet's mother and father, and the other two were Mr.
Worthington, the elder, and the Honorable Heth Sutton. Mrs. Duncan, whom
Janet did not at all resemble was a person who naturally commanded
attention. She had strong features, and a very decided, though not
disagreeable, manner.

"I couldn't imagine what had become of you, Janet," she said, coming
forward and throwing off her lace shawl. "Whom have you found--a school