e their outcries of
"Charming!" and "_Won_-derf'l!"--not even after Mr. Clairdyce had begun
to sing the same song as an encore.

When this was concluded, a sigh, long and deep, was heard under the
trees. It came from Florence. Her eyes, wanly gleaming, like young
oysters in the faint light, were still fixed on Noble; and there can be
little doubt that just now there was at least one person in the world,
besides his mother, who saw him in a glamour as something rare, obs,
exquisite, and elegant. "I think that was the most be-_you_-tiful thing
I ever heard!" she said; and then, noting a stir within the house, she
became practical. "They're starting refreshments," she said. "We better
hurry in, Mr. Dill, so's to get good places. Thanks to me, there's
plenty to go round."

She moved toward the house, but, observing that he did not accompany
her, paused and looked back. "Aren't you goin' to come in, Mr. Dill?"

"I guess not. Don't tell any one I'm out here."

"I won't. But aren't you goin' to come in for----"

He shook his head. "No, I'm going to wait out here a while longer."

"But," she said, "it's _refreshments_!"

"I don't want any. I--I'm going to smoke some more, instead."

She looked at him wistfully, then even more wistfully toward the house.
Evidently she was of a divided mind: her feeling for Noble fought with
her feeling for "refreshments." Such a struggle could not endure for
long: a whiff of coffee conjured her nose, and a sound of clinking china
witched her ear. "Well," she said, "I guess I ought to have some
nourishment," and betook herself hurriedly into the house.

Noble lit another Orduma. He would follow the line of conduct he had
marked out for himself: he would not take his place by Julia for the
supper interval--perhaps that breach of etiquette would "show" her. He
could see her no longer--she had moved out of range--but he imagined
her, asking everywhere: "Hasn't _any_ one seen Mr. Dill?" And he thought
of her as biting her lip nervously, perhaps, and replying absently to
sallies and quips--perhaps even having to run upstairs to her own room
to dash something sparkling from her eyes, and, maybe, to look angrily
in her glass for an instant and exclaim, "Fool!" For Julia was proud,
and not used to be treated in this way.

He felt the least bit soothed, and, lightly flicking the ash from his
Orduma with his little finger, an act indicating some measure of
restored composure, he strolled to the