sonnet very
much."

So far as William was concerned, this appearance of ease was assumed.
Three times that afternoon he had dressed himself in a tail-coat, and
three times he had discarded it for an old dressing-gown; three times he
had placed his pearl tie-pin in position, and three times he had removed
it again, the little looking-glass in his room being the witness of
these changes of mind. The question was, which would Katharine prefer on
this particular afternoon in December? He read her note once more,
and the postscript about the sonnet settled the matter. Evidently she
admired most the poet in him; and as this, on the whole, agreed with his
own opinion, he decided to err, if anything, on the side of shabbiness.
His demeanor was also regulated with premeditation; he spoke little, and
only on impersonal matters; he wished her to realize that in visiting
him for the first time alone she was doing nothing remarkable, although,
in fact, that was a point about which he was not at all sure.

Certainly Katharine seemed quite unmoved by any disturbing thoughts;
and if he had been completely master of himself, he might, indeed,
have complained that she was a trifle absent-minded. The ease, the
familiarity of the situation alone with Rodney, among teacups and
candles, had more effect upon her than was apparent. She asked to look
at his books, and then at his pictures. It was while she held photograph
from the Greek in her hands that she exclaimed, impulsively, if
incongruously:

"My oysters! I had a basket," she explained, "and I've left it
somewhere. Uncle Dudley dines with us to-night. What in the world have I
done with them?"

She rose and began to wander about the room. William rose also, and
stood in front of the fire, muttering, "Oysters, oysters--your basket of
oysters!" but though he looked vaguely here and there, as if the oysters
might be on the top of the bookshelf, his eyes returned always to
Katharine. She drew the curtain and looked out among the scanty leaves
of the plane-trees.

"I had them," she calculated, "in the Strand; I sat on a seat. Well,
never mind," she concluded, turning back into the room abruptly, "I dare
say some old creature is enjoying them by this time."

"I should have thought that you never forgot anything," William
remarked, as they settled down again.

"That's part of the myth about me, I know," Katharine replied.

"And I wonder," William proceeded, with some caution, "what t