sentence, and, still talking, wandered to the door and disappeared.

As the door shut firmly behind her Wayne said, as if there had been no
interruption:

"It was love you were speaking of, you know."

"But don't you think my mother is marvelous?" she asked, not content to
take up even the absorbing topic until this other matter had received due
attention.

"I should say so! But one isn't, of course, overwhelmed to find that
your mother is beautiful."

"And she's so good!" Mathilde went on. "She's always thinking of things
to do for me and my grandfather and Mr. Farron and all these old, old
relations. She went away just now only because she knows that as soon as
Mr. Farron comes in he asks for her. She's perfect to every one."

He came and sat down beside her again.

"It's going to be much easier for her daughter," he said: "you have to
be perfect only to one person. Now, what was it you were going to say
about love?"

Again they looked at each other; again Miss Severance had the sensation
of drowning, of being submerged in some strange elixir.

She was rescued by Pringle's opening the door and announcing: