past four she was saying good-by to a group of friends who were vainly urging her to remain longer.     

       “I can't—I really can't,” she declared. “I'm due at the South Station at half past four to meet a Miss Arkwright, a young cousin of Aunt Hannah's, whom I've never seen before. We're to meet at the sign of the pink,” she explained smilingly, just touching the single flower she wore.     

       Her hostess gave a sudden laugh.     

       “Let me see, my dear; if I remember rightly, you've had experience before,       meeting at this sign of the pink. At least, I have a very vivid recollection of Mr. William Henshaw's going once to meet a boy with a pink, who turned out to be a girl. Now, to even things up, your girl should turn out to be a boy!”      

       Billy smiled and reddened.     

       “Perhaps—but I don't think to-day will strike the balance,” she retorted, backing toward the door. “This young lady's name is 'Mary Jane'; and I'll leave it to you to find anything very masculine in that!”      

       It was a short drive from Mrs. Carleton's Commonwealth Avenue home to the South Station, and Peggy made as quick work of it as the narrow, congested cross streets would allow. In ample time Billy found herself in the great waiting-room, with John saying respectfully in her ear:     

       “The man says the train comes in on Track Fourteen, Miss, an' it's on time.”      

       At twenty-nine minutes past four Billy left her seat and walked down the train-shed platform to Track Number Fourteen. She had pinned the pink now to the outside of her long coat, and it made an attractive dash of white against the dark-blue velvet. Billy was looking particularly lovely to-day. Framing her face was the big dark-blue velvet picture hat with its becoming white plumes.     

       During the brief minutes' wait before the clanging locomotive puffed into view far down the long track, Billy's thoughts involuntarily went back to that other watcher beside a train gate not quite five years before.     

       “Dear Uncle William!” she murmured tenderly. Then suddenly she laughed—so nearly aloud that a man behind her gave her a covert glance from curious    

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