“Except one.”

“One?” Ted pricked up his ears.  “What’s that?  I’ll bet she isn’t really afraid of it—­just shamming.  She does that sometimes.  What is it?  Tell me, and I’ll tell you if she’s shamming.”

“I’d give a good deal to know, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you what it is.”

“Why not?  If she isn’t really afraid of it she won’t mind my knowing.  And if she is maybe I can laugh her out of it, the way Steve does Rosy.”

“I don’t believe you’re competent to treat the case, Ted.  It’s not a thing to be laughed out of, you see.  The thing for you to remember is which bunch of trilliums you are to give Mrs. Stephen Gray from me.”

“This one.”  Ted waved his left arm.

“Not a bit of it.  The left one is yours.”

“No, because mine was a little the biggest, and you see this right one is.”

“You are mistaken,” Richard assured him positively.  “You give Mrs. Stephen the right one, and I’ll take the consequences.”

“Did yours have a red one in?”

“Has that right one?”

“No, the left one has.  I remember seeing you pick it.”

“But afterward I threw it out.  You picked one and left it in.  The right is mine.”

“You’ve got me all mixed up,” vowed Ted discontentedly, at which his companion laughed, delight in his eye.  The left-hand bunch was unquestionably his own, but if he could only convince Ted of the contrary he should at least have the satisfaction of knowing that the flowers he had plucked had reached his lady, though they would have no significance to her.  When the lad jumped out of the car at his own rear gate he had agreed that the bunch with the one deep red trillium was to go to Roberta.

Ted turned to wave both white clusters at his friend as the car went on, then he proceeded straight to his sister’s room.  Finding her absent, he laid one great white-and-green mass in a heap upon her bed and went his way with the other to Mrs. Stephen’s room.  Here he found both Roberta and Rosamond playing with little Gordon and Dorothy, whom their nurse had just brought in from an airing.

“Here’s some trilliums for you, Rosy,” announced Ted.  “Mr. Kendrick sent ’em to you.  I left yours on your bed, Rob.  I picked yours; at least I think I did.  He was awfully particular that his went to Rosy, but we got sort of mixed up about which picked which, so I can’t be sure.  I don’t see any use of making such a fuss about a lot of trilliums, anyhow.”

Roberta and Rosamond looked at each other.  “I think you are decidedly mixed, Ted,” said Rosamond.  “It was Rob Mr. Kendrick meant to send his to.”

Ted shook his head positively.  “No, it wasn’t.  He said something about you that I told him I was going to tell Steve, only—­I don’t know as I can remember it.  Something about his admiring you a whole lot.”

“Delightful!  And he didn’t say anything about Rob?”