“You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. She was, she guessed, close to the library. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. CHAPTER XXVIII. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. I should scarcely have known you. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated.
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