care-free, happy boy, the other the all-wise, far-seeing man, with a
keen intellectual understanding of every phase of life.

So much were these two people interested in each other that neither
noticed that it had grown quite late and a little chilly. Eileen
shivered slightly and rather unconsciously; young Holbrook noticed it.

"Why, you are cold, and it is late; I am sorry I did not realize it,"
he broke out in astonishment as he glanced at his watch; "really you
must forgive me for keeping you up!"

He extended his hand as he bade her good night. Eileen returned his
good night in her most charming manner, though rather mechanically;
something had come over her; she did not know it, but for the first
time in her life she seemed to have fallen in love....

Much to my surprise and strangely enough after that evening these two
people seldom met and were never alone together; it seemed to me as
though young Holbrook avoided Eileen without seeming to do so. I could
not understand his attitude unless he felt himself slipping and was
trying to avoid temptation. I felt that his apparent indifference only
served to fan the flames in Eileen's heart. She struggled with her
wounded pride though there never was any outward sign of her feelings
until she became ill.

The first day's illness brought a gorgeous bouquet of red roses. "Oh,
why did he do that, and why did he send red roses, the emblem of love
and passion?" and why did Eileen clasp them madly to her heart and
drink in their sensual sweetness? For three long weeks Eileen lay ill
with burning fever, and always there were fresh red roses, but he