"That's rather idle. I'm not really sure yet what

your name is, and I don't care. Let's imagine that we

haven't any names,-I'm sure my name isn't of any

use, and I'll be glad to go nameless all my days if

only-"

"If only-" she repeated idly, opening and closing

her fan. It was a frail blue trifle, painted in golden

butterflies.

"There are so many 'if onlies' that I hesitate to

choose; but I will venture one. If only you will come

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back to St. Agatha's! Not to-morrow, or the next day,

but, say, with the first bluebirds. I believe they are

the harbingers up there."

Her very ease was a balm to my spirit; she was now

a veritable daughter of repose. One arm in its long

white sheath lay quiet in her lap; her right hand held

the golden butterflies against the soft curve of her cheek.

A collar of pearls clasped her throat and accented the

clear girlish lines of her profile. I felt the appeal of

her youth and purity. It was like a cry in my heart,

and I forgot the dreary house by the lake, and Pickering

and the weeks within the stone walls of my prison.

"The friends who know me best never expect me to

promise to be anywhere at a given time. I can't tell;

perhaps I shall follow the bluebirds to Indiana; but

why should I, when I can't play being Olivia any

more?"

"No! I am very dull. That note of apology you

wrote from the school really fooled me. But I have

seen the real Olivia now. I don't want you to go too

far-not where I can't follow-this flight I shall hardly

dare repeat."

Her lips closed-like a rose that had gone back to be

a bud again-and she pondered a moment, slowly freeing

and imprisoning the golden butterflies.

"You have risked a fortune, Mr. Glenarm, very, very

foolishly,-and more-if you are found here. Why,

Olivia must have recognized you! She must have seen

you often across the wall."

"But I don't care-I'm not staying at that ruin up

there for money. My grandfather meant more to me

than that-"

"Yes; I believe that is so. He was a dear old gentleman;

and he liked me because I thought his jokes adorable.

My father and he had known each other. But

there was-no expectation-no wish to profit by his

friendship. My name in his will is a great embarrassment,

a source of real annoyance. The newspapers

have printed dreadful pictures of me. That is why I

say to you, quite frankly, that I wouldn't accept a cent

of Mr. Glenarm's money if it were offered me; and

that is why,"-and her smile was a flash of spring,-"I

want you to obey the terms of the will and earn your

fortune."




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