always called him by that.  He was a beautiful man-boy or boy-man, however you choose to put it.  His eyes were heavenly blue, his skin was smooth and white, his cheeks were red, and he had the most charming mouth I ever saw.  He was just the right height, well shaped, and wore the most becoming clothes.  I fell madly in love with him the second time I saw him, and continued so for a long time.  I used to think about him and dream about him, and write little poems about him which nobody ever saw.  I tried to make a sketch of his face once, but I failed and tore it up.”

“What did he do?” asked Mrs. Easterfield.

“Nothing whatever,” said Olive.  “I never spoke to him, or he to me.  I don’t believe he ever noticed me.  Whenever I could I went into the room where he was talking to father, but I was very quiet and kept in the background, and I do not think his eyes ever fell upon me.  But that did not make any difference at all.  He was beautiful above all other men in the world, and I loved him.  He was my first, my only love, and it almost brings tears in my eyes now to think of him.”

“Then you really could love the right person if he were to come along,” said Mrs. Easterfield.

“Why do you think I couldn’t?  Of course I could.  But the trouble is he doesn’t come, so I must try to arrange the matter with what material I have.”

When Mrs. Easterfield left the garden she went rapidly to her room.  There was a smile on her lips, and a light in her eye.  A novel idea had come to her which amused her, pleased her, and even excited her.  She sat down at her writing-table and began a letter to her husband.  After an opening paragraph she wrote thus: 

“Is not Mr. Hemphill, of the central office of the D. and J., named Rupert?  It is my impression that he is.  You know he has been to our house several times to dinner when you invited railroad people, and I remember him very well.  If his name is Rupert will you find out, without asking him directly, whether or not he was engaged about seven years ago at the navy-yard.  I am almost positive I once had a conversation with him about the navy-yard and the moving of one of the great buildings there.  If you find that he had a position there, don’t ask him any more questions, and drop the subject as quickly as you can.  But I then want you to send him here on whatever pretext you please—­you can send me any sort of an important message or package—­and if I find it desirable, I shall ask him to stay here a few days.  These hard-worked secretaries ought to have more vacations.  In fact, I have a very interesting scheme in mind, of which I shall say nothing now for fear you may think it necessary to reason about it.  By the time you come it will have been worked out, and I will tell you all about it.  Now, don’t fail to send Mr. Hemphill as promptly as possible, if you find his name is Rupert, and that he has ever been engaged in the navy-yard.”