A silence fell between them, broken only by the whirring of Nora's wheel
and the robin's chatter before Katrine inquired:

"Are you still bent on that expedition to that world's end?"

"I could," he returned, "be persuaded from it, or at least to postpone
it. If by any chance I were invited to luncheon in a certain garden--an
old-fashioned garden, with box and peonies, and," he raised his head to
look down over the flowers--"and some queer purple things like bells
whose name I have forgotten, under a trellis of roses, with--"

"Me," she interrupted, with a laugh. "We'll make a party, as the
children say. Nora will give us broiled chicken and yellow wine in the
long-necked glasses, and cake with nuts in it, and you," she stopped for
a second, the dimple in the left cheek showing itself, "will give all of
your nuts to me; for it is well to sacrifice for another," she said,
with a laugh, "and exceeding well," she added, "that I should have the
nuts."

Having ordered the luncheon, they went together down the gravelled
pathway to the grape arbor, which was grown over with sweet,
old-fashioned climbing roses, through which the sunlight filtered in
wavy lights on the quaint low rocker, the long rattan couch, the pillows
of gay hue, the table covered with books and sewing. Frank paused at the
archway and looked in.

"I have found it," he said.

"What?" she asked.