her in her place, smiling, but traces of tears about her lovely
eyes.

Nothing more was said for a day or two, and then Cherry read aloud
to the family an affectionate letter in which Martin said that
everything would be ready for her whenever she came now.




CHAPTER VII


The last day of March and of Cherry's visit broke clear and blue,
and with it spring seemed to have come on a rush of perfume and
green beauty. Days had been soft and warm before; this day was
hot, and flushed with colour and splendour. There were iris in the
dewy grass under the oaks, but in the sunshine every trace of
winter's damp had disappeared. Larks whirled up from the fields,
and the bridal-wreath and syringa bushes were mounds of creamy
bloom.

Alix and Cherry washed each other's hair in the old fashion, and
came trailing down with towels and combs to the garden. The doctor
joined them in the midst of their tossing and spreading, and sat
smoking peacefully on the porch steps.

"Oh, heavens, how I love this sort of weather!" Alix exclaimed,
flinging her brown mane backward, her tall figure slender in a
faded kimono. She sat down crosswise on her chair, locked her arms