y to the rest. Why should the Planters have taken Dalrymple
into the marble temple?

"A small start," Lambert was saying, "but if he makes the grade there's
a big future for him there. I fancy he's anxious to meet you halfway.
How about you, George?"

"I'll make no promises," George said. "It depends entirely on
Dalrymple."

Lambert didn't warn him, so he didn't expect to find Dalrymple enjoying
the early spring graces of Oakmont. He managed the moment of meeting,
however, without disclosing anything. Dalrymple, for the time, was quite
unimportant. It was Sylvia he was anxious about, Sylvia who undoubtedly
nursed a sort of horror of what he had ventured to do and say at Upton.
Everyone else was outside, as if making a special effort to welcome him.
Where was she?

He resented the worshipful attentions of the servants.

"I'm quite capable of managing myself," he said, as he motioned them
aside and lowered himself from the automobile.

He disliked old Planter's heartiness, although he could see the physical
effort it cost, for the once-threatening eyes were nearly dark; and the
big shoulders stooped forward as if in a constant effort to escape a
pursuing pain; and the voice, which talked about heroes and the
country's debt and the Planters' debt, quavered and once or twice broke
altogether, then groped doubtfully ahead in an effort to recover the
propelling thought.

Mrs. Planter, at least, spared him any sentimental gratitude. She was
rather grayer and had in her face some unremembered lines, but those
were the only changes George could detect. As far as her manner went
this greeting might have followed the farewell at Upton after only a day
or so.

"I hope your wound isn't very painful."

"My limping," he answered, "is simply bad habit. I'm overcoming it."

"That's nice. Then you'll be able to play polo again!"

"I should hope so, as long as ponies have four good legs."

He wished other people could be like her, so unobtrusively, unannoyingly
primeval.

As he entered the hall he saw Sylvia without warning, and he caught his
breath and watched her as she came slowly down the stairs. He tried to
realize that this was that coveted moment he had so frequently fancied
the war would deny him--the moment that brought him face to face with
Sylvia again, to witness her enmity, to desire to break it down, to want
her more than he had ever done.

She came straight to him, but even in the presence of the others sh