If you prefer to go, why, I must look out for some one to take your place.

Don't be in a hurry--there's plenty of time to decide." He swung on and left her.
"Plenty of time to decide," she repeated, with a smile curling her thin lips.

"My good Sir Everard, I decided long ago! Marry your fox-hunting bride--bring her home.

Sybilla Silver will be here to welcome her, never fear!" The baronet stayed three weeks in England--then returned impatiently to Paris.

Of course the rapture of the meeting more than repaid the pain of parting.
She was growing more beautiful every day, the infatuated young man thought, over her books; and the sun of France shone on nothing half so lovely as this tall, slender damsel, in her gray school uniform and prim, black silk apron.
The summer went.