To the Japanese garden they went, for a most unsatisfactory tea.  Miss Fox, it appeared, had been to Japan,—­“with Dolly Ripley, Peter,” said she, carelessly mentioning the greatest of California’s heiresses, and she delighted the little bowing, smiling tea-woman with a few words in her native tongue.  Susan admired this accomplishment, with the others, as she drank the tasteless fluid from tiny bowls.

Only four o’clock!  What an endless afternoon it had been!

Peter took her home, and they chatted on the steps gaily enough, in the winter twilight.  But Susan cried herself to sleep that night.  This first departure from her rule had proven humiliating and disastrous; she determined not to depart from it again.

Georgie and the doctor came to the house for the one o’clock Christmas dinner, the doctor instantly antagonizing his wife’s family by the remark that his mother always had her Christmas dinner at night, and had “consented” to their coming, on condition that they come home again early in the afternoon.  However, it was delightful to have Georgie back again, and the cousins talked and laughed together for an hour, in Mary Lou’s room.  Almost the first question from the bride was of Susan’s love-affair, and what Peter’s Christmas gift had been.

“It hasn’t come yet, so I don’t know myself!” Susan said readily.  But that evening, when Georgie was gone and her aunt and cousins were at church, she sat down to write to Peter.

My dear Peter (wrote Susan): 

This is a perfectly exquisite pin, and you are a dear to have
remembered my admiring a pearl crescent months ago.  I
never saw a pin that I liked better, but it’s far too handsome
a gift for me to keep.  I haven’t even dared show it to Auntie
and the girls!  I am sending it back to you, though I hate to
let it go, and thank you a thousand times.

Always affectionately yours,

Susanbrown.

Peter answered immediately from the country house where he was spending the holidays.  Susan read his letter in the office, two days after Christmas.

Dear Pansy Irene: 

I see Auntie’s fine Italian hand in this!  You wait till your
father gets home, I’ll learn you to sass back!  Tell Mrs. Lancaster
that it’s an imitation and came in a box of lemon drops,
and put it on this instant!  The more you wear the better, this
cold weather!

 I’ve got the bulliest terrier ever, from George.  Show him
  to you next week.  Peter.

Frowning thoughtfully, her eyes still on the scribbled half-sheet, Susan sat down at her desk, and reached for paper and pen.  She wrote readily, and sent the letter out at once by the office boy.

 Dear Peter: 

 Please don’t make any more fuss about the pin.  I can’t
  accept it, and that’s all there is to it.  The candy was quite
  enough—­I thought you were going to send me books.  Hadn’t
  you better change your mind and send me a book?  As ever,
                                        S. B.