"No, indeed! What a marvelous change a year has made in that child!" said Dr. Stanley, in an animated tone.
"'A year!' I am sure you do not quite mean that," and she lifted a questioning look to him.
"No, I do not—thank you for correcting me," he gravely rejoined.
"I know time has had nothing to do with it—that we owe it all to
Christ—Truth. How watchful one needs to be of one's words, in
Science."
"Yes, or one is liable to give wrong impressions without meaning to. It is scientific to be exact, and"—with a soft sigh—"we all have to learn that by being continually on guard."
There was a moment of silence, after she ceased speaking, during which Katherine began to be conscious that the atmosphere was becoming charged with an unaccustomed element, and she hastened to observe, as she glanced towards the veranda:
"How lovely the house is looking! Have you your camera here?"
"I am sorry I have not, for we ought to have some views of it. We will have," he added. "I will have a photographer from the village come up before the day is over and take some."
As he concluded, by some careless handling, the picture of the Flower Carnival slipped from his grasp, and in trying to recover it his arm came in contact with the box, which Katherine had taken from her treasure closet, displacing the cover and almost upsetting it.
"Oh!" cried the girl, in a startled tone, but flushing scarlet as she saved it from falling and hastily replaced the cover. She was not quick enough, however, to prevent her companion seeing, with a sudden heart bound of joy, that the box contained a spray of dried and faded moss rosebuds.
He turned a radiant face to her, and her eyes drooped in confusion before the look in his, while the color burned brighter in her cheeks.