"What _is_ the matter?" he demanded, as she turned on her heel and moved
away.

"I'm a trifle nervous, I believe. If you want to see the big trout
breaking on Hurryon, you'd better come with me."

She was walking swiftly down the drive to the south of the house. He
overtook her and fell into slower step beside her.

The sun had almost disappeared behind the mountains; bluish haze veiled
the valley; a horizon of dazzling yellow flecked with violet faded
upward to palest turquoise. High overhead a feathered cloud hung, tinged
with rose.

The south drive was bordered deep in syringas, all over snowy bloom; and
as they passed they inhaled the full fragrance of the flowers with every
breath.

"It's like heaven," said Duane; "and you are not incongruous in the
landscape, either."

She looked around at him; the smile that curved her mouth had the
faintest suspicion of tenderness about it.

She said slowly:

"Do you realise that I am genuinely glad to see you? I've been horrid to
you. I don't yet really believe in you, Duane. I detest some of the
things you are and say and do; but, after all, I've missed you.
Incredible as it sounds, I've been a little lonely without you."