up every morning but one, this week, by nine o'clock."

Ivy was horror-struck. Her country ideas of "early to bed and early to
rise" received a great shock, as her looks plainly showed. He laughed
gayly at her amazed face.

"You don't seem to appreciate me, Miss Geer."

"'Nine o'clock!'" repeated Ivy, slowly,--"'every morning but one!' and
it is Tuesday to-day."

"Yes, but you know yesterday was a dark, cloudy day, and excellent for
sleeping."

"But, Mr. Clerron, then you are not more than fairly up when I come. And
when do you write?"

"Always in the evening."

"But the evenings are so short,--or have been."

"Mine are not particularly so. From six to three is about long enough
for one sitting."

"I should think so. And you must be so tired!"

"Not so tired as you think. You, now, rising at five or six, and running
round all day, become so tired that you have to go to bed by nine;
of course you have no time for reflection and meditation. I, on the
contrary, take life easily,--write in the night, when everything is