She passed it at that moment. The next time their glances met she smiled
a little. A new epoch in her life had begun.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. "Are we not going to dance?"

"I thought we might sit out a dance or two in the conservatory--one or
two----"

"One," she said decidedly. "Here are some palms. Why not sit here?"

There were a number of people about; she saw them, too, noted his
hesitation, understood it.

"We'll sit here," she said, and stood smilingly regarding him while he
lugged up two chairs to the most retired corner.

Slowly waving her fan, she seated herself and surveyed the room.

It is quite true that reunion after many years usually ends in
constraint and indifference. If she felt slightly bored, she certainly
looked it. Neither of them resembled the childish recollections or
preconceived notions of the other. They found themselves inspecting one
another askance, as though furtively attempting to surprise some
familiar feature, some resemblance to a cherished memory.

But the changes were too radical; their eyes, looking for old comrades,
encountered the unremembered eyes of strangers--for they were
strangers--this tall young man, with his gray eyes, pleasantly fashioned
mouth, and cleanly moulded cheeks; and this long-limbed girl, who sat,