not
altogether unmingled with a sense that he was in that Office which
controls the destinies of those who 'get into trouble.' The motives even
of statesmen, they say, are mixed; how much more so, then, of girls in
love! Tucked away behind a Steinway, which instinct told her was not for
use, she looked up under her lashes at her uncle's still military figure
and said softly:

"It was awfully good of you to come, too, Uncle John."

And John, gazing down at that round, dark head, and those slim, pretty,
white shoulders, answered:

"Not at all--very glad to get a breath of fresh air."

And he stealthily tightened his white waistcoat--a rite neglected of
late; the garment seemed to him at the moment unnecessarily loose.

"You have so much experience, Uncle. Do you think violent rebellion is
ever justifiable?"

"I do not."

Nedda sighed. "I'm glad you think that," she murmured, "because I don't
think it is, either. I do so want you to like Derek, Uncle John,
because--it's a secret from nearly every one--he and I are engaged."

John jerked his head up a little, as though he had received a slight
blow. The news was not palatable. He kept his form, however, and
answered:

"Oh! Really! Ah!"

Nedda said still more softly: "Please don't judge him by the other night;
he wasn't very nice then, I know."

John cleared his throat.

Instinct warned her that he agreed, and she said rather sadly:

"You see, we're both awfully young. It must be splendid to have
experience."

Over John's face, with its double line between the brows, its double line
in the thin cheeks, its single firm line of mouth beneath a gray
moustache, there passed a little grimace.

"As to being young," he said, "that'll change for the--er--better only
too fast."

What was it in this girl that reminded him of that one with whom he had
lived but two years, and mourned fifteen? Was it her youth? Was it that
quick way of lifting her eyes, and looking at him with such clear
directness? Or the way her hair grew? Or what?

"Do you like the people here, Uncle John?"

The question caught John, as it were, between wind and water. Indeed, all
her queries seemed to be trying to incite him to those wide efforts of
mind which bring into use the philosophic nerve; and it was long since he
had generalized afresh about either things or people, having fallen for
many years past into the habit of reaching his opinions down out of some
pigeonhole or