"She must be sweet," he went on, thinking to himself for her benefit. "I
cannot define that either, but you know what I mean?"

She decided mentally that Louise Caldwell would not fill his measure.

"It is something that only some girls have in common with some
flowers--violets, for instance."

"Oh, I don't care for sweet girls very much," she said, thinking of
another schoolmate whom the girls used to call _eau sucré_.

"You do," he said positively. "I am not talking of that kind. It is
womanliness and gentleness, fragrance, warmth, beauty, everything."

"Oh, yes. That kind?" she said acquiescingly. "Well, go on; you expect
to find a good deal."

"I do," he said briefly, and sat up. "I expect to find the best."

She glanced at him with new interest. He was very good-looking when he
was spirited. And his eyes now were full of light.

"Well, beauty and sweetness," she said; "what else? I must know, for I
may have to help you find her. There don't appear to be many around
Ridgely, since you have declined to accept the only pretty girl I
have seen."

"She must be good and true. She must know the truth as--" His eye fell
at that instant on a humming-bird, a gleaming jewel of changing sapphire
that, poised on half-invisible wings, floated in a bar of sunlight