so attached to it the family have about given up hope of getting
him to build a real house farther out. He doesn't mind our being
extravagant about anything else, but he won't let us alter one
single thing about his precious little old house. Well!" She
halted, and gave him her hand. "Adieu!"

"I couldn't," he began; hesitated, then asked: "I couldn't come
in with you for a little while?"

"Not now," she said, quickly. "You can come----" She paused.

"When?"

"Almost any time." She turned and walked slowly up the path, but
he waited. "You can come in the evening if you like," she called
back to him over her shoulder.

"Soon?"

"As soon as you like!" She waved her hand; then ran indoors and
watched him from a window as he went up the street. He walked
rapidly, a fine, easy figure, swinging his stick in a way that
suggested exhilaration. Alice, staring after him through the
irregular apertures of a lace curtain, showed no similar
buoyancy. Upon the instant she closed the door all sparkle left
her: she had become at once the simple and sometimes troubled
girl her family knew.

"What is going on out there?" her mother asked, approaching from
the dining-room.