linging together, like a pair of little love-birds, with peace fully
restored for the time being.

Mrs. Melrose's car had been waiting for some time, and she was whirled
home through the dark and wintry streets without the loss of a second.
Lights were lighted everywhere now, and tempered radiance filled the old
hall as she entered it. It was just six o'clock, but Norma knew that she
and the old lady were to be alone to-night, and she went through the
long drawing-room to the library beyond it, thinking she might find her
still lingering over the teacups. Dinner under these circumstances was
usually at seven, and frequently Mrs. Melrose did not change her gown
for it.

There was lamplight in the library, but the old lady's chair was empty,
and the tea table had been cleared away. Norma, supposing the room
unoccupied, gave a little gasp of surprise and pleasure as Chris
suddenly got to his feet among the shadows.

She was so glad to see him, so much more glad than she would have
imagined herself, that for a few minutes she merely clung tight to the
two hands she had grasped, and stood laughing and staring at him. Chris
back again! It meant so much that was pleasant and friendly to Norma.
Chris advised her, admired her, sympathized with her; above all, she
knew that he liked her.

"Chris; it's so nice to see you!" she exclaimed.

The colour came into his face, and with it an odd expression that she
had never seen there before. Without speaking he put his arm about her,
and drew her to him, and kissed her very quietly on the mouth.

"Hello, you dear little girl!" he said, freeing her, and smiling at her,
somewhat confusedly. "You're not half so glad to see me as I am to be
back! You're looking so well, Norma," he went on, with almost his usual
manner, "and Alice tells me you are making friends everywhere. What's
the news?"

He threw himself into a large leather chair, and, hardly knowing what
she was doing, in the wild hurrying of her senses, Norma sat down
opposite him. Her one flurried impulse was not to make a scene. Chris
was always so entirely master of a situation, so utterly unemotional and
self-possessed, that if he kissed her, upon his return from a
three-weeks' absence, it must be a perfectly correct thing to do.

Yet she felt both shaken and protestant, and it was with almost
superhuman control that she began to carry on a casual conversation,
giving her own report upon Alice and Leslie, Acton and the w