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Show I08 21 ~tuutlon ofl\gc ®Ill lflose anll Stiller <4 But won't your father miss you?" she queried, with mock seriousness. . "He pays no attention whatever to my ITregular habits, and I think that's one reason why we get on so well together. It's a wise father who knows his own child." "Especially if it is a wise child," she replied. Her eyes were dancing with mirth, a scarlet signal burned on either cheek, and her parted lips were crimson. She seemed loveher to hun than ever before. "Honestly, Rose, you seem to get prettier every day." "Then," she smiled, "if I were younger, I might eventually become dangerous." "Rose--" "Old Rose," she interrupted. The high colour faded from her face as she spoke and left her pale. Allison put his hand on her arm and stopped. 11 Rose, please don't. You're not a day older than I am." "Ten years,'' she insisted stubbornly, for women are wont to lean upon the knife that stabs them and she was in a reckless mood. "When you're forty, I 'II be fifty." A shadow crossed his face. "It hurts me, someway, to have you talk so. I don't know how- nor why." In a single swift surge her colour came back. "All right," she answered, quietly, "hereafter "ltbe )J1ear 's at tbe Spring" I 'm thirty, also. Thanking you for giving me ten more years of life, for I love it so!" The sun was well up in the heavens when they came to the river, and the dark, rippling surface gave back the light in a thousand little dancing gleams. The ice was broken, the snow was gone, and fragments of shattered crystal went gently toward the open sea, lured by the song of the river underneath. "It doesn't look deep," remarked Rose. "But is is, nevertheless. I nearly drowned myself here when I was a kid, trying to dive to the bottom." "I 'm glad you didn't succeed. What a heavy blow it would have been to your father!" "Dear old Dad," said Allison, gently. "I 'm all he has." "And all he wants." "It's after eight," Allison complained, looking at his watch, "and I 'm starving." "So am I. Likewise my skirts are wet, so we'd better go." When they reached Madame Bernard's, Rose ordered breakfast in the dining-room, for two, then excused herself to put on dry clothing. Allison waited before the open fire until she came down, fresh and tailor-made, in another gown and a white linen collar. "I thought women always wore soft, fluffy things in the morning," he observed, as they sat down. 109 lil!tbc 'IRI\'cr |