is a miracle," he said, giving her full credit. "I'd like to ask how
you wrought it, only I mustn't keep you from your duties."

She laughed joyously, with a little toss of the shapely head which was
far more expressive than many words.

"I haven't any duties; I have taught them to amuse themselves. And they
are doing it very creditably, don't you think?"

"They are getting along," he admitted. "But tell me: how did you go
about it?"

"It was simple enough. When we came here we found a lot of good people
who had fallen into the bad habit of boring one another, and a few who
hadn't; but the few held themselves aloof. We opened our house to the
many, and tried to show them that a church sewing-circle isn't precisely
the acme of social enjoyment. That is all."

Griswold saw in his mind's eye a sharply etched picture of the rise and
progress of a village magnate cleanly struck out in the two terse
sentences, and his respect for his companion in the wide window-seat
increased in just proportion. Verily, Miss Margery had imagination.

"It is all very grateful and delightful to me," he confessed, at length.
"I have been out of the social running for a long time, but I may as
well admit that I am shamelessly Epicurean by nature, and an ascetic
only when the necessities drive."

"I know," she assented, with quick appreciation. "An author has to be
both, hasn't he?--keen to enjoy, and well hardened to endure."

He turned upon her squarely.

"Where did you ever learn how to say such things as that?" he demanded.

It was an opening for mockery and good-natured raillery, but she did not
make use of it. Instead, she let him look as deeply as he pleased into
the velvety eyes when she said: "It is given to some of us to see and to
understand where others have to learn slowly, letter by letter. Surely,
your own gift has told you that, Mr. Griswold?"

"It has," he acknowledged. "But I have found few who really do
understand."

"Which is to say that you haven't yet found your other self, isn't it?
Perhaps that will come, too, if you'll only be patient--and not expect
too many other gifts of the gods along with the one priceless gift of
perfect sympathy."

"When I find the one priceless gift, I shall confidently expect to find
everything else," he asserted, still held a willing prisoner by the
bewitching eyes.

She laughed softly. "You'll be disappointed. The gift you demand will
preclude some of the others; as the others