whatever special seriousness of purpose was now perturbing her, this
matter-of-fact return to the roof they shared seemed to give it
contradiction,--did not at least suggest that any immediate breach in
their present relations was to be looked for from her.

And so Max went to the interview wondering how he was going to behave
over this new fact which had so largely entered his life; whether he was
going to "behave well"--whether indeed it were possible at the same time
to behave well and be honest and above-board. He was, in fact, up
against the usual difficulty of the man who, having run domesticity on a
temporary basis, has discovered grounds for wishing to exchange it for a
more permanent one. And as he put his latch-key into the garden door of
the quiet tree-shadowed house which for five years he had regarded as
his second home, he uttered to himself a kind of a prayer that his
relations with a good woman would not now have to be less honest than
formerly.

It was evident that she had been on the lookout for him; a French-window
in a creeper-covered veranda opened as he advanced, and gracious
domesticity stood smiling in the green-lighted shade.

She laid her hands on his shoulders as she kissed him. "Well, mon
Prince," she said, "are you glad to see me again?"

He took in all the pleasant and familiar appeal of her face before
answering. "Yes, I am," he said, "very."

"That's true--really true?"

And at that challenge he gave a funny little duck of the head, known to
her of old, and kissed her again.

She turned quietly and walked away into the room.

"I came back just to hear you say that," she murmured in a moved tone,
and stood waiting with her face away from him.

The heart of Max was wonderfully relieved: gladdened also, for as he
looked at her he realized that she remained dear to him. With her old
simple directness she had let him know what was in her mind, and by her
clean brevity of speech had already, in this their first moment
together, saved him from the trap into which he might have fallen. Not
that the ordinary male temptation to let her resolution stand as cover
to his own did not for a moment occur to him. Nay, he could even suggest
good reasons; for was not this the kindest reward now left within his
power--to let her think that the wish was not shared--to show even a
little resentment and reproach? Max, the satirical critic of human
nature, could see clearly the attractiveness of such