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tice. I don’t like her, and it will not be worth while to call again soon, though it would be pleasant to see those drawings.
This morning as I was accidentally passing under her window I saw her at it and lifted my hat. She leaned over with her cheek in her palm, and said, smiling,
“You mustn’t spoil Sylvia!”
“What is my definite offence in that regard?”
“Too much arbor, too many flowers, too much fine treatment.”
“Does fine treatment ever harm anybody? Is it not bad treatment that spoils people?”
“Good treatment may never spoil people who are old enough to know its rarity and value. But you say you are a student of nature; have you not observed that nature never lets the sugar get to things until they are ripe? Children must be kept tart.”
“The next time that Miss Sylvia comes
