memory forever was a fair young girl sitting by the window with a
background of early spring greenery swaying to and fro in the storm.
Long afterward, when watching on the perilous picket line or standing
in his place on the battlefield, he would close his eyes that he might
recall more vividly the little white hands deftly crocheting on some
feminine mystery, and the mirthful eyes that often glanced from it to
him as the quiet flow of their talk rippled on. A rill, had it
conscious life, would never forget the pebble that deflected its
course from one ocean to another; human life as it flows onward cannot
fail to recognize events, trivial in themselves, which nevertheless
gave direction to all the future.

Graham admitted to himself that he had found a charm at this fireside
which he had never enjoyed elsewhere in society--the pleasure of being
perfectly at ease. There was a genial frankness and simplicity in his
entertainers which banished restraint, and gave him a sense of
security. He felt instinctively that there were no adverse currents of
mental criticism and detraction, that they were loyal to him as their
invited guest, notwithstanding jest, banter, and good-natured satire.

The hours had vanished so swiftly that he was at a loss to account for
them. Miss St. John was a natural foe to dulness of all kinds, and
this too without any apparent effort. Indeed, we are rarely
entertained by evident and deliberate exertion. Pleasurable
exhilaration in society is obtained from those who impart, like
warmth, their own spontaneous vivacity. Miss St. John's smile was an
antidote for a rainy day, and he was loath to pass from its genial
power out under the dripping clouds. Following an impulse, he said to
the girl, "You are more than a match for the weather."