why--wondered, yet knew.

But it resulted in the flowering of her tenderness for him. Interest
mounted to defiance. It ended in blind, passionate desire to "make
it up" to him. And again he was so different from Harold; Harold did
not impress himself upon one by upsetting all one's preconceived
ideas.

She felt now that she understood better--understood the closed
doors. He was--she could think of no better word than sensitive.

And that is why, several mornings later, she very courageously--for
it did take courage--threw this little note over on his desk--they
had formed a habit of writing notes to each other, sometimes about
the words, sometimes about other things.

"IN-VI-TA-TION, _n._ That which Miss Noah extends to Mr.
Webster for Friday evening, December second, at the house where she
lives--hasn't she already told him where that is? It is the wish of
Miss Noah to present Mr. Webster to various other Miss Noahs, all of
whom are desirous of making his acquaintance."

She was absurdly nervous at luncheon that day, and kept telling
herself with severity not to act like a high-school girl. He was
late in returning that noon, and though there seemed a new something
in his voice when he asked if he hadn't better sharpen her pencils,
he said nothing about her new definition of invitation. It was
almost five o'clock when he threw this over on her desk:

"AP-PRE-CI-A-TION, _n._ That sentiment inspired in Mr. Webster