"Sylvia." The voice was faint as if the speaker had come back from other worlds, but distinct, wondering, happy.
"Phil!" And as he felt Sylvia's kiss on his cheek, Phil closed his eyes again as if there were now no other bliss to attain in this world or the next.
CHAPTER XXIII
AFTERMATH
Three weeks later and April had surprised even the city and taken it by storm. Buds were beginning to burst in the trees in the park, hyacinths rainbowed here and there, the fountains were released from their winter bondage. The river took on a bluer hue to match the sky, or was it at the hint of the bird who arrived just before Easter giving advance notice of the latest colors in Nature's fashion house, bearing samples on his own back?
In Miss Josephine Murray's little apartment Suzanne and Barb and Sylvia were assembled, one blue and gold afternoon, with tongues flying fast as of old.
"When is Phil going to be able to be moved?" Suzanne was demanding of Sylvia. "And where is he going to move to?"
"Next week, we hope. And he is coming to Arden Hall."
"Bless us! how modern!" teased Suzanne.
Sylvia flushed and shook her head.