believe me, my dear Madame,

"'Most faithfully yours,

"'RICHARD KENT.'"

"How like a man," smiled Rose. "That house has been closed for over ten
years, and he thinks there is nothing to be done but to unlock the front
door and engage two or three servants who may or may not be
trustworthy."

"What an imposition!" Isabel said. "Aunt Francesca, didn't I meet
Allison Kent when I was here before?"

"I've forgotten."

"Don't you remember? Mother brought me here once when I was a little
tot. We stayed about a week and the roses were all in bloom. I can see
the garden now. Allison used to come over sometimes and tell me fairy
stories. He told me that the long, slender gold-trimmed bottles filled
with attar of roses came from the roots of the rose bushes--don't you
remember? And I pulled up rose bushes all over the garden to find out."

"Dear me, yes," smiled Aunt Francesca. "How time does fly!"

"You were very cross with Allison--that is, as cross as you ever could
be. It seemed so queer for you to be angry at him and not at me, for I
pulled up the bushes."

"You were sufficiently punished, Isabel. I believe the thorns hurt your