“I told him you had had an awful time with your ankle, and how Miss Sniffen scolded you,”—­Polly lowered her voice,—­“and I suppose he felt sorry—­”

“How Miss Sniffen scolded me?  Not about his being there?” The tone was dismayed.  “Why, yes!  What harm was there?” “Polly!  Polly!  You didn’t say—­what did you say?”

“I can’t remember exactly,” was the plaintive answer.  “I don’t see why you care, anyway.  I think I said it was because he stayed with us and took us to ride.”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” laughed Miss Sterling, “but—­how could you, Polly?”

“I should think you’d be glad to have him know how Miss Sniffen acts.”

“Sh!  Somebody’s coming!”

“I must go,” Polly whispered.

She let in Mrs. Albright and Miss Crilly.

“Oh, what dandy roses!” Miss Crilly dashed over to the window.  “Your best feller must sure ‘a’ sent ’em!  Ain’t they sweet?  But why don’t you have ’em over on that little table?  They’d show off fine there!  May I?” She carried them across the room.

“Polly tried them in various places,” responded Miss Sterling.

“Well, ‘t don’t make a whole lot o’ difference where you put such roses!  My, but they’re immense!” She stood off, the better to admire them.  “Wouldn’t I rave if they belonged to yours truly!  How can you folks take them so coolly?”

Juanita Sterling laughed.  “I had my time when they first came!”

“You say it all, so we don’t need to,” laughed Mrs. Albright.  “They are beauties, that’s a fact!”

Miss Crilly sat down, her eyes still on the flowers.  “I don’t see a card anywhere,” she nodded.  “Ain’t that proof positive?” winking toward Mrs. Albright.

“There was none,” smiled Miss Sterling.

“You don’t mean you don’t know who sent ’em?” Miss Crilly queried.

“Just that.  Either the sender forgot to put in her card or she didn’t wish me to know.”

“I bet ’t isn’t a ‘her’!” giggled Miss Crilly.  “Don’t you, Mis’ Albright?”

That lady twinkled her answer.  “I shouldn’t wonder.”

A soft knock sent Miss Sterling to the door, and Miss Castlevaine came in.

Miss Crilly showed off the roses with all the pride of a possessor.

“I guess I saw them down in the lower hall,” smiled Miss Castlevaine knowingly.  “There was a long box on the desk.”

“You did?  And ain’t it funny?” Miss Crilly ran on,—­“she don’t know who sent ’em!”

“Perhaps Miss Sniffen could tell you.”

Miss Sterling looked up quickly.

“What do you mean?” asked Miss Crilly.

Miss Castlevaine moved her chair nearer, listened intently, and then began in a low voice:  “I was coming up with a pitcher of hot water, and you know there’s a little place where you can see down on the desk.  Well, Miss S. was there fussing over a box, and I said to myself, ‘I guess somebody’s got some flowers.’  Then I saw her lift the cover and slip out something white.  I didn’t see it distinctly, for just as she took hold of it she looked up, and I dodged out of sight.  When I peeked down again she was dropping something into a little drawer, and I came on as still as I could.  I thought then that whoever had those flowers wouldn’t find out who sent ’em!”