definable that had lain between them, some awkwardness
arising, maybe, from the Rafferty incident, vanished in that moment.

Phyl had been drawing steadily towards him lately, till, unknown to her,
he had entered into the little romance of Juliet, so much so that if last
night, at that magical moment when he met her on entering the gate--if at
that moment he had taken her in his arms and kissed her, Love might have
been born instantly from his embrace.

But the psychological moment had passed, a crisis unknown to him and
almost unknown to her.

And now, as if to seal the triumph of the commonplace, suddenly, the vague
reservation that had lain between them, disappeared.

"Do you know," said he, "you taught me a lesson that day, a lesson every
man ought to be taught before he leaves college."

"What was that?" asked Phyl.

"Never to interfere in household affairs. Of course Rafferty wasn't
exactly a household affair because he belonged mostly to the stable, still
he was your affair more than mine. Household affairs belong to women, and
men ought to leave them alone."

"Maybe you're right," said Phyl, "but all the same I was wrong. Do you
know I've never apologised for what I said."

"What did you say?" asked he with an artless air of having forgotten.

"Oh, I said--things, and--I apologise."

"And I said--things, and I apologise--come on, let's go out. I have no
business this morning and I'd like to show you the town--if you'd care to
come."

"What about Miss Pinckney?" asked Phyl.

"Oh, she's all right," he replied. "The Seth trouble will keep her busy
till lunch time and I'll leave word we've gone out for a walk."

Phyl ran upstairs and put on her hat. As they were passing through the
garden the thought came to her just for a moment to show him the little
arbour; then something stopped her, a feeling that this humble little
secret was not hers to give away, and a feeling that Pinckney wouldn't
care. Dead lovers vanished so long and their affairs would have little
interest for his practical mind.

The morning was warmer even than yesterday. The joyous, elusive,
intoxicating spirit of the Southern spring was everywhere, the air seemed
filled with the dust of sunbeams, filled with fragrance and lazy sounds.
The very business of the street seemed part of a great universal gaiety
over which the sky heat hazy beyond the Battery rose in a dome of deep,
sublime tranquil blue.

They stopped to inspect the old