a pessimist," he exclaimed.

"No, you're too active to be. Pessimism is at bottom a kind of mental
indolence, I'd say--an unpleasant kind."

"Some matters are not solved by action," said he. "That is, when they
are out of one's hands and in another's."

Her attention was caught by those words, and she hung on them for a
little. They distressed her; they caused her to understand the forced
immobility of his face as he spoke, and wish that he would give way to
his feeling. The phrase "out of one's hands and in another's" referred
undoubtedly to Ruth Gardner. She did not trust herself to speak.

"What became of all those flowers that were in your garden last
summer?" he asked, suddenly. "Do you dig up the roots, or cover them,
or let them freeze? You have no idea how many times these cold days
the recollection of that hour with you last summer when we walked
among them recurs to me. It seems ages ago, however. That was one of
the happy days, Louise."

A delicate tint of pink stole into her face. For to her also the day
had been one of happiness, as clear-cut in her memory as a cameo. The
thought that it and she had been dwelling in his mind produced in her
breast an unaccountable agitation. The coral pink in her cheeks
deepened to a flush; she lowered her eye-lashes and averted her look.

"The flowers are banked with straw, the perennials," she said, to
prevent a silence.

"I shall come and see them when they're blooming again," he stated.
"The more I recall them, the more beautiful it seems they were--yes,
and the orchard, too, and the grassy canals, and the sunshine that
day. And you in the picture--the centre of the picture, Louise. The
impressions one retains that stand out vividly in the mind are few:
that is one of the number for me. But perhaps not for you."

"Oh, for me also," she exclaimed.

Bryant stared at her round forearms and hands lying on her lap, but
without observing them. He had marked the quick sincerity of her
response. It affected him as would her soft hand-clasp. He began to
glance restlessly about the room.

The dusk of the early winter night was at hand. It had thickened in
the corners and over where Mr. Graham and Dave were meditating their
game in silence. The flames crackling in the fireplace intensified the
forming shadows. Lee recognized that it was time to be going.
Nevertheless, he continued to linger for a while, with his eyes
sometimes resting on his companion in enjoyment of