ned forward in
his chair, waving his hand baton-like, heard his voice, joining lustily
in the "Matches" chorus. In that very room--in the very chair in which
Stanor now sat. ... What centuries seemed to have lolled by, between
that day, and this!

"Wasn't he? That's good! I'm glad to hear that," Stanor said
perfunctorily. "It takes time, of course, to get out of invalid ways.
I shall have to be running down to see him one of these days."

"Oh, of course; he'll expect you. And then--then you'll begin your work
over here. In London, I suppose?"

"I ... er ... the firm is in town. There--er--there will be a lot to
arrange." Suddenly Stanor leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his
eyes searching her face. "Pixie, this is an odd sort of conversation
for our first meeting! ... We've got wrong somehow. ... Can't we get
right? Why waste time on generalities. ... Are you _glad_ to see me
back, Pixie?"

"I am!" Pixie's eyes gazed back without a flicker. "When I got your
letter I was--thankful! I think it was--time--you came back."

"Have you missed me, Pixie, while, I've been away?"

Now she hesitated, but her eyes remained steady and candid.

"It had been such a little time, you know; and you had never stayed with
us at home. I could hardly _miss_ you out of my life, but I ...
_thought_ of you!"

"Did you, Pixie? Did you, little Pixie? ... I wonder _what_ you
thought!"

Pixie did not answer that question. The answer would have been too
long, too complicated. She smiled, a wistful little smile, and turned
away her head.

Then Stanor rose. She heard him rise, heard the chink of the tea-things
on the tray as he pressed upon it in rising, heard his footsteps passing
round the table towards her chair, heard in a sickening silence his
summoning voice--

"Pixie!"

"Stanor!"

They looked at each other;--white, strained, tense.

"Pixie, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Stanor, I will. If you want me..."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

"WHAT HAVE I DONE?"

There was a moment's silence, a moment which seemed like an hour. Then
Stanor spoke--

"Thank you, Pixie!"

He put his arms round her, made as if to kiss her cheek, but the small
hands held him off with unexpected strength.

"Not yet! Not yet! You haven't answered my question!"

"What question?"

"_If you want me_?" The grey eyes were very near his own. They seemed
to search into his very soul. "_Do_ you want me, Stanor?"

"Pixie,