rly hair at his temples.

"Did you hear the bird this evening?" he asked.

"Yes. Isn't he a perfect darling!"

Her sudden unbending was so gracious, so sweet that, bewildered, he
remained silent for a while, recovering his breath. And finally:

"I never knew whether or not you noticed his singing," he said.

"How could you suppose any woman indifferent to such music?" she asked
indignantly. She was beginning to realise how her silence had starved her
all these months, and the sheer happiness of speech was exciting her.
Into her face came a faint glow like a reflection from the pink clouds
above the West.

"That little bird," she said, "sings me awake every morning. I can hear
his happy, delicious song above the rushing chorus of dawn from every
thicket. He dominates the cheery confusion by the clear, crystalline
purity of his voice."

It scarcely surprised him to find himself conversing with a cultivated
woman--scarcely found it unexpected that, in her, speech matched beauty,
making for him a charming and slightly bewildering harmony.

Her slim hands lay in her lap sometimes; sometimes, restless, they
touched her bright hair or caressed the polished instruments on the table
before her. But, happy miracle! her face and body remained turned toward
him where he stood leaning on her window-sill.

"There is a fish nibbling your hook, I think," she said.

He regarded his bobbing cork vaguely, then went across the track and
secured the plump perch. At intervals during their conversation he caught
three more.

"Now," she said, "I think I had better say good-night."

"Would you let me give you my fish?"

She replied, hesitating: "I will let you give me two if you really wish
to."

"Will you bring a pan?"

"No," she said hastily; "just leave them under my window when you go."

Neither spoke again for a few moments, until he said with an effort:

"I have wanted to talk to you ever since I first saw you. Do you mind my
saying so?"

She shook her head uncertainly.

He lingered a moment longer, then took his leave. Far away into the dusk
she watched him until the trees across the bridge hid him. Then the
faint smile died on her lips and in her eyes; her mouth drooped a little;
she rested one hand on the table, rose with a slight effort, and lowered
the shade. Listening intently, and hearing no sound, she bent over and
groped on the floor for something. Then she straightened herself to her
full height and, lean