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 "I do not think I have the pleasure of your son George's acquaintance,"

"Oh, it's not personal—only you know it is rather unusual for a man of your age—and, may I say, appearance—"

"Since you ask me," said Austin, "I should think it better taste not to,"

"Well, we'll put it all on the score of age, then," she replied, dryly. "But you know you are rather young to run a girls' school."

"It's a question of character, not age," answered Austin. "I've known some old men I should not care to intrust my school to."

"Oh, old men!" exclaimed his visitor, as if she could have written a volume on the subject. There was a pause after this which at first seemed to have come of itself, but was really occasioned by the fact that Austin's eyes had suddenly fallen upon a most unexpected object upon his desk, and he was engaged in wondering how long it had been there. It was a crisp, white gardenia in a slender vase. His concentrated gaze directed hers to the same spot.

"What," she cried, "have you greenhouses? Or no—an admiring pupil—a flower on teacher's desk—an offering at the shrine. Oh no, I don't think I can take Sally away,