incident any reason why he should send us longstemmed roses by the dozen,
with a very sentimental rhyme? Or why we should blush divinest rosy-red when
we look at his card? Anne, thy face betrayeth thee.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Phil. Do you know Mr. Gardner?”
“I’ve met his two sisters, and I know of him. So does everybody worthwhile
in Kingsport. The Gardners are among the richest, bluest, of Bluenoses. Roy is
adorably handsome and clever. Two years ago his mother’s health failed and he
had to leave college and go abroad with her—his father is dead. He must have
been greatly disappointed to have to give up his class, but they say he was
perfectly sweet about it. Fee—fi—fo—fum, Anne. I smell romance. Almost do I
envy you, but not quite. After all, Roy Gardner isn’t Jonas.”
“You goose!” said Anne loftily. But she lay long awake that night, nor did she
wish for sleep. Her waking fancies were more alluring than any vision of
dreamland. Had the real Prince come at last? Recalling those glorious dark eyes
which had gazed so deeply into her own, Anne was very strongly inclined to
think he had.