"Keep them? Do you want to keep them?"
"Not particularly, dear," answered Janet. "I—I thought he meant me to."
"No doubt. Write a civil note, dear, thank him for letting you see them, and return them inclosed."
Janet was a little reluctant to part with her autograph manuscript,—not because of its pecuniary value, though that was more than a trifle, had she known, but because such things are pleasant possessions to show to envious friends,—but she did as she was told. She did not, however, feel herself bound altogether to smother her pride or to make a secret of the tribute she had received. Tora Smith heard the story with evident amusement, and, thinking that others would share her appreciation of it, relieved the somewhat uphill course of Mrs. Hodge's call by a repetition of it: whereby it happened that Nellie Fane came to know, not only that Dale had written verses to Miss Delane and sent them, but also that Miss Delane had returned the offering. She told Philip the latter fact, and the two ventured to rally the poet on the occurrence. Dale took their action very badly, and his displeasure soon reduced Nellie to apologies. Philip was less sensitive.
"D. W. T., by Jove!" he remarked. "Quite like old times, Dale!"
Dale muttered something about "infernal chatter."
"You will soon be in a position to publish a volume of 'Rejected Addresses.'"
"Not at all," said Dale. "It's simply that she didn't understand I meant her to keep them."
"Oh, that's her delicate way of snubbing you, my boy."