tarted like convicted lovers as the maid
opened the door. The consciousness of their starting made them the
more embarrassed, and they stammered before the maid. Ruth fled
up-stairs, while Carl tried to walk up gravely, though he was tingling
with the game.

When he had washed (discovering, as every one newly discovers after
every long, chilly walk, that water from the cold tap feels amazingly
warm on hands congealed by the tramp), and was loitering in the upper
hall, Ruth called to him from Mrs. Needham's room:

"I think you'll find hair-brushes and things in Jack's room, to the
right. Oh, I am very stupid; I forgot this was our house; I mean in
your room, of course."

He had a glimpse of her, twisting up a strand of naturally wavy brown
hair, a silver-backed hair-brush bright against it, her cheeks flushed
to an even crimson, her blue corduroy jacket off, and, warmly intimate
in its stead, a blouse of blue satin, opening in a shallow triangle at
her throat. With a tender big-brotherliness he sought the room that
was his, not Jack's. No longer was this the house of Other People, but
one in which he belonged.

"No," he heard himself explain, "she isn't beautiful. Istra Nash was
nearer that. But, golly! she is such a good pal, and she is beautiful
if an English lane is. Oh, stop rambling.... If I could kiss that
little honey place at the base of her throat...."

"Yes, Miss Winslow. Coming. _Am_ I ready for dinner? Watch me!"

She confided as he came out into the hall, "Isn't it terribly
confusing to have our home and even three toby-children all ready-made
for us, this way!"

Her glance--eyes that always startled him with blue where dark-brown
was expected; even teeth showing; head cocked sidelong; cheeks burning
with fire of December snow--her glance and all her manner trusted him,
the outlaw. It was not as an outsider, but as her comrade that he
answered:

"Golly! have we a family, too? I always forget. So sorry. But you
know--get so busy at the office----"

"Why, I _think_ we have one. I'll go look in the nursery and make
sure, but I'm almost positive----"

"No, I'll take your word for it. You're around the house more than I
am.... But, oh, say, speaking of that, that reminds me: Woman, if you
think that I'm going to buy you a washing-machine this year, when I've
already bought you a napkin-ring and a portrait of Martha
Washington----"

"_Oh weh!_ I knew I should have a cruel husband who----Joy! I think