flowers, Toky! There are no roses like the June roses. How wonderfully
you have arranged them! A rose should never be crowded."

Toky grinned helplessly.

"Tree hours I take to make--look beautifully. One hour for each--rosy.
That why it look beautifully."

"Yes, that is why it looks--beautifully. Three hours and--you, Toky!"

Boswell and Farwell were sitting in front of the grate, upon which the
wood lay ready to light. Their faces were pale and haggard, but their
eyes turned to Priscilla without shame or doubt.

"There is much--to talk about," said Boswell with his ready friendliness;
"Max--your Farwell and mine--has told me----"

"After dinner, dear friends. I am hungry, bitterly hungry and--cold!"

"Cold?"

"Yes; see, I am going to set the wood to burning. By the time we come
back the room will be ready for us."

"To be sure!" Boswell sidled from his deep chair, the pinched look on his
face relaxing.

"A fire, to be sure. Now, Max, no one but a woman would have thought of a
fire in June."