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Arms and the Woman

Page 119

"I was twenty-two and proud," said I. "Where are you going?" for she

had risen.

"I'll be back in a moment," she said, as she left the room. When she

returned she put out her hand. On the palm lay two bright American

dimes.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The change."

"Very good!" laughed Pembroke.

I said nothing, but took out my wallet. In opening it to put in the

dimes, something fell to the floor. It was Gretchen's rose.

"What is that?" asked Phyllis, as I stooped to pick it up.

"It is the end of a story," I answered. I busied myself with the fire

till the poker grew too hot.

"How many romances commonplace wallets contain?" said Pembroke,

sententiously.

"I have two in mine," said I.

Pembroke looked at Phyllis, but the fire seemed to be claiming her

attention. Then he looked at me, but I was gazing at Phyllis. He was

in a puzzle.

"Do you know, Miss Landors," he said, "that I never dreamed to meet you

again when I saw you in Vienna last year?"

"Vienna?" said she. "I have never been to Vienna."

I suddenly brought down my heel on Pembroke's toes.

"Ah, a curious mistake on my part. I suppose the ball at the ministry

to-night will be your first on the continent?"

I gazed admiringly at him. He had not even looked at me. He was

certainly clever.

"Yes," said Phyllis, "and already I believe I am going to have what

they call stage fright, though I cannot understand why I should feel

that way."

"Possibly it's a premonition," said I, absently.

"And of what?" asked Phyllis.

"How should I know?" said I, mysteriously.

"What in the world is going on?" she demanded. "You step on Mr.

Pembroke's toes, you prophesy, and then you grow mysterious."

My glance and Pembroke's met. He burst out laughing. A possible

contretemps was averted by the approach of Mrs. Wentworth, who asked us

to have a cup of chocolate before we went out into the chill air.

Finally we rose to make our departure. While Pembroke was bidding

Ethel a good morning, Phyllis spoke to me.

"The last flowers you sent me were roses," she said softly.

"Were they?" said I. "I had forgotten. Shall I send you some for this

evening?"

It was something in her eyes that I did not understand.

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