rewarded him, for when he enquired for Mrs. Haden the maid told him
that only Miss Lily was in.

"Who shall I say?" she asked.

"Mr. Fane."

"Step this way, please. Miss Lily's down in the morning-room."

And this so brief and so bald a colloquy danced in letters of fire
across the darkling descent of the enclosed stairs down to the
ground-floor.

"Someone to see you, Miss Lily."

Not Iris could have delivered a richer message.

Deep in a wicker chair by a dull red fire sat Lily with open book upon
her delicate dress of lavender. The door closed; the daylight of the
grey October afternoon seemed already to have fled this room. Dusky in a
corner stood a great dolls' house, somewhat sad like a real house that
has been left long untenanted.

"Well, now we're alone enough," murmured Lily.

He knelt beside her chair and let his head fall upon her silken
shoulder.

"I'm glad you're in your own room," Michael sighed in answer.

Outside, a muffin-man went ringing through the sombre Sabbath chill; and
sometimes, disturbing the monotonous railings above the area, absurd
legs were seen hurrying to their social tasks. No other sign was given
of a life that went on unaware of these two on whom time showered twenty
golden minutes.

"Mother and Doris will be back at four," Lily said. "Is my face
flushed?"

Fresh carnations would have seemed faded near her, when she looked at
Michael for an answer.

"Only very slightly," he reassured her.

"Come up to the drawing-room," she commanded.

"Can I look at your dolls' house?" Michael asked.

"That old thing," said Lily scornfully.

Reverently he pulled aside the front of the battered dwelling-place, and
saw the minute furniture higgledy-piggledy.

"I wonder if anyone has ever thought of burning an old dolls' house,"
said Michael thoughtfully. "It would be rather a rag. I've got an old
toy fire-engine somewhere at home."

"You baby," said Lily.

"Well, it depresses me to see that dolls' house all disused and upside
down and no good any more. My kiddy sister gave hers to a hospital. What
a pity I never thought of burning that," sighed Michael regretfully. "I
say, some time we must explore this room. It reminds me of all sorts of
things."

"What sort of things?" asked Lily indifferently.

"Oh, being a kid."

"Well, I don't want to be reminded of that," said Lily. "I wish I was
older than I am."

"Oh, so do I," said Michael. "I don't want to be a kid again."