” She pointed with shaking fingers to a great bunch of dark red carnations, thrust carelessly into a deep china bowl, to which the card was still attached. ’ ‘You see? Not to be trusted,’ Hilary uttered disgustedly. . Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. She did not want to go to the doctor's people; however kindly that might be, they would be only curious strangers. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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