A Romance of the City Room
ting on her best gown in honor of this spiritual caller, and singing a favorite song which was in harmony with her mood. The little maid smiled to hear again the blithe notes that had been silent of late.
"For the spring, the spring is coming,
'Tis good-by to ice and snow,
Yes, I know it, for the swallows
Have come back to tell me so,"
sang the soft contralto voice. Spring had already come in her heart for the roses told her so.
Herforth called on her after dinner, formally arrayed in his evening clothes, and with a startling chrysanthemum in his button hole. His first words lowered Miss Bancroft's spirits.
"Got the roses, I see," he said, nodding toward the blooming jacqueminots in the vase on the table.
"Did—did you send them?" faltered the girl. She was conscious of a sinking sensation, as if something were falling away from her.
"Only in a way," said Herforth at once.
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