sorry I couldn't get here at six. I hope you didn't wait long?"

"Not very long," he said, smiling; "but--Great Heavens, what on earth
is the matter?"

"Nothing," she said.

"But you've been--you are--"

"I'm not," she said defiantly,--"besides, I've got neuralgia. It
always makes me look like that."

"My Aunt!" he thought. "Then she _was_ here at six and--she's been
crying because I wasn't and--oh, where are we?" "I'm so sorry you've
got neuralgia," he said gently, "but I'm awfully glad you didn't get
here at six. Because my watch was wrong and I've only just got here,
and I should never have forgiven myself if you'd waited for me a
single minute. Is the neuralgia better now?"

"Yes," she said, smiling faintly, "much better. It was rather sharp
while it lasted, though."

"Yes," he said, "I see it was. I am so glad you did come. But I was so
certain you wouldn't that I didn't bring any of my traps. So we can't
begin the picture to-day. Will you start a sketch, or is your
neuralgia too bad?"

He knew it would be: and it was.

So they merely sat on the pine carpet and talked till it was time for