ng as he leaned
slightly forward in his chair, arms resting on his knees, while
around them the magic ebbed, eddied, ebbed; and lassitude succeeded
tension; and she stirred, looked up at him with eyes that seemed
dazed at first, then widened slowly into waking; and he saw in them
the first clear dawn of alarm. Suddenly she flushed and sprang to
her feet, the bright colour surging to her hair.

"Don't!" he said. "Don't reason! There will be nothing left of me
if you do--or of, these moments. You will hate them--and me, if
you reason. Don't think--until we see each other again!"

She dropped her eyes slowly, and slowly shook her head.

"You ask too much," she said. "You should not have said that."
All the glamour was fading. Her senses were seeking their balance
after the incredible storm that had whirled them into chaos.

Fear stirred sharply, then consternation--flashes of panic pierced
her with darts of shame, as though she had been in physical contact
with this man.

All her outraged soul leaped to arms, quivering now under the
reaction; the man's mere presence was becoming unendurable; the
room stifled her. She turned, scarce knowing what she was doing;
and at the same moment her sister-in-law entered.

Berkley, already on his feet, turned short: and when she offered
him a hand as slim and white as Ailsa's, he glanced inquiringly at
the latter, not at all certain who this charming woman might be.

"Mrs. Craig," said Ailsa.

"I don't believe it," he said. "You haven't grown-up children!"

"Don't you really believe it, Mr. Berkley? Or is it just the
flattering Irish in you that natters us poor women to our
destruction?"

He had sense and wit enough to pay her a quick and really graceful
compliment; to which she responded, still laughing:

"Oh, it is the Ormond in you! I am truly ve'y glad you came. You
are Constance Berkley's son--Connie Berkley! The sweetest girl
that ever lived."

There was a silence. Then Mrs. Craig said gently:

"I was her maid of honour, Mr. Berkley."

Ailsa raised her eyes to his altered face, startled at the change
in it. He looked at her absently, then his gaze reverted to Ailsa
Paige.

"I loved her dearly," said Mrs. Craig, dropping a light, impulsive
hand on his. "I want her son to know it."

Her eyes were soft and compassionate; her hand still lingered
lightly on his, and she let it rest so.

"Mrs. Craig," he said, "_you_ are the most real person I have k