"What a beau cavalier you have become," she said, smiling again, as he
drew back to let her pass in front of him, and turned her chair to an
angle at which the fire could not scorch her face; "what's become of the
old Austin? I can't seem to find him at all!"

"Oh, I left him in the woods the night of the fire, I hope," returned
Austin, laughing, "while you were asleep. I'm sure neither you nor any
one else wants him back."

Sylvia settled herself comfortably, and smoothed out the folds of her
dull-black silk dress. "Wouldn't you like to smoke?" she asked; "it's
an awfully comfortable feeling--to watch a man smoking, in front of an
open fire!"

"I'd love to, if you're sure you don't mind. I don't want to make the air
in here heavy--for I suppose you've got to sleep here on this sofa,
having allowed yourself to be turned out of your good bed."

She laughed. "I'm so small that I can curl up and sleep on almost
anything, like a kitten," she said. "And it's fine to think of being able
to give my room to James and Sadie--they're so nice, and so happy
together. I can open the windows wide for a few minutes after you've
gone, and there won't be a trace of tobacco smoke left. If there were, I
shouldn't mind it. Now, what is it, Austin?"

"I want to talk. I haven't seen you a single minute alone. And though the
others are all interested, it isn't like telling things to a person who's
done all the wonderful things and seen all the wonderful places that I
just have. I've simply got to let loose on some one."