lasts."

The young man laughed. "Oh, well," he said, with a tender
inflection, "I dare say that my Amy will look like that to me."

"If she doesn't you don't love her," said Lawton. "But my Eudora
IS that."

"That is a queer-sounding Greek name."

"She is Greek, like her name. Such beauty never grows old. She
stands on her pedestal, and time only looks at her to love her."

"I thought you were a business man as hard as nails," said the
young man, wonderingly. Lawton laughed.

When Thursday came, Lawton, carefully dressed and carrying a long
tissue-paper package, evidently of roses, approached the Yates
house. It was late in the afternoon. There had been a warm day,
and the trees were clouds of green and more bushes had blossomed.
Eudora had put on a green silk dress of her youth. The revolving
fashions had made it very passable, and the fabric was as
beautiful as ever.

When Lawton presented her with the roses she pinned one in the
yellowed lace which draped her bodice and put the rest in a great
china vase on the table. The roses were very fragrant, and
immediately the whole room was possessed by them.

A tiny, insistent cry came from a corner, and Lawton and Eudora