oom. She wandered
over to the front window, and drawing aside the silken curtain, looked
out into the storm-tossed garden. The pale heliotropes lay wet and sweet
against the trellises; some loosened rose-petals fluttered noiselessly
to the ground; only the gorgeous chrysanthemums looked proudly
indifferent to the elements; and the beautiful, stately palm-tree just
at the side of the window spread its gracious arms like a protecting
temple. She felt suddenly oppressed and feverish, and threw open the
long French window. The rain had ceased for the time, and she stepped
out upon the veranda. The fragrance of the rain-soaked flowers stole to
her senses; the soft, sweet breeze caressed her temples; she stood still
in the perfumed freshness and enjoyed its peace. By and by she began to
walk up and down. Evening was approaching, and Louis would soon be home.
She had decided to meet him on his return and have it over with. She
must school herself to some show of graciousness. The thing must not be
done by halves or it must not be done at all. Her father's happiness;
over and over she repeated it. She went so far as to picture herself in
his arms; she heard the old-time words of blessing; she saw his smiling
eyes; and a gentleness stole over her whole face, a gentle nobility that
made it strangely sweet. The soft patter of rain on the gravel roused
her, and she went in; but she felt better, and wished Louis might come
in while the mood was upon her.

It was nearing six when Mrs. Levice came back humming a song.

"I thought you would still be here. Make a light, will you, Ruth; it is
as pitchy as Hades, only that smouldering log looks purgatorial."

Ruth lit the gas; and as she stood with upturned eyes adjusting the
burner, her mother noticed that the heaviness had departed from her
face. She sank into a rocker and took up the evening paper.

"What time is it, Ruth?"

"Twenty minutes to six," she answered, glancing at the clock.

"As late as that?" She meant to say, "And Louis not home yet?" but
forbore to mention his name.

"It is raining heavily now," said Ruth, throwing a log upon the fire.
Mrs. Levice unfolded the crackling newspaper, and Ruth moved over to the
window to draw down the blinds. As she stood looking out with her hand
on the chair, she saw the gate swing slowly open, and a messenger-boy
came dawdling up the walk as if the sun were streaming full upon him.

Ruth stepped noiselessly out, meaning to anticip