"You see, we are close to home now.

My uncle will be so glad to see you, Mr.Maraton, and I cannot tell you how delighted I am that you are coming to Lyndwood." "I only hope," he said a little gravely, "that your uncle will not expect too much from my coming.

It seems churlish to refuse, and even though our views are as far apart as the poles, I know that your uncle means well." She smiled at him delightfully.
"I refuse to be depressed even by your solemn looks," she declared.

"It is my twenty-fourth birthday to-day and I am still young enough to cling to my optimism." "Your birthday," he remarked.

"I should have brought you an offering." She held up the roses.
"Nothing in the world," she assured him softly, "could have given me more pleasure than these.