"These refreshments," he observed, "are certainly the handiwork of my little maid. They have a flavor all her own. I am proud of Amarilly's English, too."
"I wonder," said Colette, "if you are doing quite right, Mr. Phillips, in improving Amarilly to such an extent? I am afraid she will grow beyond her family."
"No; even you, pardon me, Miss King, don't know Amarilly as I do. She couldn't get beyond them in her heart, although she may in other directions. Her heart is in the right place, and it will bridge any distance that may lie between them."
John looked up attentively and approvingly.
"Amarilly has too much aptitude for learning not to be encouraged, and I shall do more for her before long. We have pursued a select course of reading this winter. She has read aloud while I painted. We began stumblingly with Alice in Wonderland and are now groping through mythology."
After refreshments had been served, Lily Rose went to her bedroom to don her travelling gown, and when the happy couple had driven away amid a shower of rice and shouts from the neighbors, John's carriage drew up.
"John," asked Colette, after a happy little moment in his arms, "did you read my note and did you see what the date was?"
"Colette, surely it was the dearest love-letter a man ever received. If
I could have had it all these dreary months!"
"Do you wonder that I feared its falling into strange hands?"
"Tell me its history, Colette. How you recovered it, and why you thought it was in the surplice in the first place?"