g life in New York, where he was
succeeding brilliantly, far beyond anybody's expectations--except those
of the few knowing ones who had recognized the genius in him in his
school and college days. But he had never given up. Invalided in body,
his mind worked unceasingly; and a certain part of the literary work he
had been doing he did still. He said it kept him from going off his
head.

When the stillness of the usually noisy house had become oppressive he
took up his tablet and pen again. He wrote a sentence or two--slowly;
then another--more slowly; and drew an impatient line through them all.
He tossed the tablet over to a table near at hand and sat staring into
the fire. Certain lines about his mouth grew deep.

A knock on his door roused him, and he realized that it had sounded
before. "Come in," he called, and the door opened and closed behind him.
An unmistakable sound, as of the soft rustle of delicate skirts, swept
across the floor and paused behind his chair. He drew himself up among
his pillows, and strained his neck to look over his shoulder. A young
face, full of life and colour, laughed down into his.

"You?" he said in an amazed breath. "_You?_ Why, Nan!"

He reached up one hand and took hers and drew her with his slight
strength around where he could see her. It did not take much strength.
She came, laughing still, and sweeping a graceful low bend before him.

"Don't ask me why," she said with a shake of her head. "I didn't want to
go. I knew I wouldn't go all the time I was dressing. But I dressed. I
knew I could argue with them better when I got this gown on. I think I
have rather a regal air in it, don't you?"

"I could tell better if you were not wearing that shapeless thing over
it."

"Oh, but I've taken off my gloves, and I can't stand bare arms and
shoulders here at home." She shrugged the shoulders under the thin
silken garment with which she had covered them.

"And you're not going to the Van Antwerps' at all?"

"Certainly not. I preferred to stay at home."

"Why?"

"I told you not to ask me why. But I suppose you won't talk about
anything else until you know."

She sat down opposite him before the fire, looking up at the great
branches of holly on the chimney-piece above, their scarlet berries
gleaming saucily among the rich green of their leaves. She reached up
and pulled off a spray; then she glanced at him. He was silently
surveying her. In her delicate blue gauzy gown she wa