the tossing sprays would reach him. Then he sat
down in a deep chair, crossed his legs, smiled, and looked about.

Here it was that Doris spent much of her time indoors. The window was
open and a rose vine was clinging to the frame, rich in bloom. There was
a work basket on the low, velvet-cushioned seat--a child's sock lay near
it and several ridiculous toys, rigidly propped against the wall, as if
on review. Birds sang outside in the plum and peach trees and birds
inside, not realizing their bondage, answered merrily--the room was
throbbing with life and joy and hope. Thornton smiled, not a pleasant
smile, and felt more important than he had felt in many a day; more
powerful, too.

"Doris must be over thirty," he mused, "and not of the marrying type.
There must be a pretty big pile to back all this." He got quickly to his
feet, for Doris appeared just then at the doorway leading to the
library. She paused at the top of the stairs--there was a strip of green
velvet carpet running down the middle of the marble steps; her white
gown came just to her ankles, and the narrow white-shod feet sank
lightly into the green carpet as if it were moss.

"I am glad to see that you have made yourself comfortable, George," she
said, and smiled her very finest smile. There was no hint of reproof in
the tone, but Thornton instantly wondered if it would not have been
wiser to have kept to the reception room.

"I hope I have not intruded," he went to the steps and held out his
hand, "it _is_ home, you know, after all."

This was meant to be conciliatory, but the appeal went astray.

"Let us sit by the window," Doris remarked, "the air is delightful
to-day."

And then came the pause during which the path leading to an
understanding must be chosen. Doris left the choosing to Thornton. He
took the wrong one.

"It brings so much back," he half whispered, "so much!" He was a fairly
good actor, but Doris was not appreciative.

"So much that had better be left where it rests," she said. "I have
learned that the present needs every energy--the past can take care of
itself."

"You have had the real burden." Thornton meant to be magnanimous. "I
shall always be grateful for your splendid help at a time when so much
was at stake. Your goodness to my child----" For a moment Thornton
could not think whether the child was a girl or a boy. He was confused
and a bit alarmed.

Doris came to his assistance.

"Meredith's little girl was all t