The long day dragged away, and when she went home that evening she found awaiting her the Philadelphia magazine that had her beautiful face on the outside cover. Accompanying this was a batch of novels, together with a basket of fruit and a bunch of roses.
"Hothouse roses and tropical fruit—you must have caught a rich beau, Liane!" cried Mrs. Brinkley, as she delivered the gifts.
"Oh, no; there must be some mistake," she answered quickly, but her heart throbbed as she remembered the meeting with Devereaux yesterday, and she wondered if he could possibly be the donor.
"Impossible!" she sighed to herself, as the woman continued:
"There cannot be any mistake, for there is the card, tied to the basket, with 'Miss Liane Lester, with kind wishes of a true friend,' written on it. They came by a neat messenger boy, who would not answer a single question I asked him."
"A charming mystery! Oh, what magnificent roses for the last of November!" cried Lizzie, inhaling their fragrance with delight, while Liane handed around the basket, generously sharing the luscious fruit with her friends.
She was thinking all the while of the words Jesse Devereaux had said to her on the beach that never-to-be-forgotten night:
"I will be a true friend to you."
The card on the basket read the same: "A True Friend."