black bow had a queer magic for him. It made the past seem only
yesterday. Oddly it set her back where she had been when he first saw
her wear it. It shook his lordly sense of possession. She had not
belonged to him then. Somehow she did not seem to belong to him now. He
felt doubtful ... apprehensive. What if...? Yes. What if...?

He changed hurriedly and went down to her study. A clear fire of
apple-boughs and cedar burned on the hearth. The warmth drew their
sweetest scent from the rose-geraniums. There were no fuchsias on the
green steps now. It irritated Charlotte that Sophy would not have her
splendid fuchsias in this room. But Sophy could not endure the fantastic
flowers near her. They were too potent with wild memories.

Before the fire Dhu was lying. He eyed Loring from golden, white-rimmed
eyes without moving at first. Then he rose and wagged a languidly
polite tail. He had never quite approved of the young man.

Loring sat down and tried to beguile the dog into friendship. Dhu was
civil but distant. Sophy came in, and he rushed and reared upon her,
putting a paw on either shoulder.

She looked very tall in her black satin tea-gown. The collie was
beautifully golden against the black, shining stuff. And this gown
Loring recognised as he had recognised the black bow. It was a gown of
old days. It had some yellow lace at the throat, and queer, carved
silver buttons. How that lace smelt sweet of her! How often he had
kissed it in kissing her throat! And those silver buttons ... how cold
and hard they had felt to his cheek upon the warmth of her breast!

She came up and sat down in her own low chair on the other side of the
hearth.

"Quite Darby and Joan we look...." said Loring, with a nervous laugh.
Sophy smiled, but this smile was enigmatic.

"Why didn't you write to me? Why didn't you tell me you were coming,
Morris?" she asked gently.

"Oh ... well...." said Loring.

He went red, and fussed with a piece of cedar that had fallen on the
hearth. The fragrant smoke got into his eyes--and made them smart.

"You see...." he went on with more assurance, as he hammered the log
into place again, "I knew this was the sort of thing that would have to
be talked out...."

"Well, then...?" said Sophy.

He glanced at her rather sheepishly.

"Oh, hang it all, Sophy!" he said. "Don't make it _too_ hard. What do
you want?... Probation?... Kow-towing? What?"

"No. I don't want anything like that, Morris. What I