He looked at her with reminiscent eyes. There was a little flush in
her pale cheeks. She looked more like the child-sweetheart he had so
nearly forgotten.

Mrs. Wyatt had moved away. He and Christine were alone. "I used to
kiss you in those days, didn't I?" he asked, looking at her. He felt
miserable and reckless.

She looked up at him with serious eyes. "Yes," she said almost
inaudibly.

Something in her face stirred an old emotion in Jimmy Challoner's
heart. This girl had been his first love, and a man never really
forgets his first love; he leaned nearer to her.

"Christine, do you--do you wish we could have those days over again?"
he asked.

A little quiver crossed her face. For a moment the beautiful brown
eyes lit up radiantly. For a moment she was something better than just
merely pretty.

He waited eagerly for her answer. His pride, if nothing deeper, had
been seriously wounded that night. The tremulous happiness in this
girl's face was like a gentle touch on a hurt.

"Do you--do you wish it?" he asked again.

"Yes," said Christine softly. "Yes, if you do."