the hunger vanished, so that as she glanced back at her
comfortable reflection it seemed as if it were all just a dream of
cold and wet and hunger. With silk soothing her skin, with the crisp
purity of spotless linen rustling about her, with the faultless gown
falling in rich splendor about her feet, she felt so much a part of
these new surroundings that it was as though she melted into
them--blended her own personality with the unstinted luxury about
her.

But her foot scuffled against a wet stocking lying as limp as water
grass, which recalled her to herself and the man who had led the way
to this. A wave of pity swept over her as she wondered if he had found
dry things for himself. She must hurry back and see that he was
comfortable. She felt a certain pride that the beaded slippers she had
found in the closet fitted her a bit loosely. With the candle held far
out from her in one hand and the other lifting her dress from the
floor, she rustled along the hall to the study, pausing there to speak
his name.

"All ready?" he shouted.

He strode from a door to the left, but stopped in the middle of the
room to study her as she stood framed in the doorway--a picture for
Whistler. With pretty art and a woman's instinctive desire to please,
she had placed the candle on a chair and assumed something of a pose.
The mellow candle-light deepened the raven black of her hair, softened
the tint of her gown until it appeared of almost transparent fineness.
It melted the folds of the heavy crimson draperies by her side into
one with the dark behind her. She had shyly dropped her eyes, but in
the excitement of the moment she quickly raised them again. They
sparkled with merriment at sight of his lean frame draped in a
lounging robe of Oriental ornateness. It was of silk and embellished
with gold-spun figures.

"It was either this," he apologized, "or a dress suit. If I had seen
you first, I should have chosen the latter. I ought to dress for
dinner, I suppose, even if there isn't any."

"You look as though you ought to make a dinner come out of those
sleeves, just as the magicians make rabbits and gold-fish."

"And you," he returned, "look as though you ought to be able to get a
dinner by merely summoning the butler."

He offered her his arm with exaggerated gallantry and escorted her to
a chair by the fire. She seated herself and, thrusting out her toes
towards the flames, gave herself up for a moment to the drowsy warmth.