an, and with a sudden twist her train fell
about her feet, making an artistic drapery, Keith experienced a sense of
delight. He did not dream that Mrs. Wentworth knew much better than he
precisely the pose to show the curve of her white full throat and round
arm. The demands of notorious beauty were already beginning to tell on
her, and even while she spoke gracious words of her husband's friendship
for him, she from time to time added a touch here and a soft caress
there with her long white, hands to make the arrangement the more
complete. It was almost too perfect to be unconscious.

Suddenly Keith heard Norman's voice outside, apparently on the stair,
calling cheerily "Good-by" to some one, and the next second he came
hastily into the drawing-room. His hair was rumpled and his necktie a
trifle awry. As he seized and wrung Keith's hand with unfeigned
heartiness, Keith was suddenly conscious of a change in everything. This
was warmth, sincerity, and the beautiful room suddenly became a home.
Mrs. Wentworth appeared somewhat shocked at his appearance.

"Well, Norman, you are a sight! Just look at your necktie!"

"That ruffian!" he laughed, feeling at his throat and trying to adjust
the crooked tie.

"What will Mr. Keith think?"

"Oh, pshaw! Keith thinks all right. Keith is one of the men I don't have
to apologize to. But if I do"--he turned to Keith, smiling--"I'll show
you the apology. Come along." He seized Keith by the hand and started
toward the door.

"You are not going to take Mr. Keith up-stairs!" exclaimed his wife.
"Remember, Mr. Keith may not share your enthusiasm."

"Wait until he sees the apology. Come along, Keith." He drew Keith
toward the door.

"But, Norman, I don't think--" began Mrs. Wentworth. What she did not
think was lost to the two men; for Norman, not heeding her, had, with
the eagerness of a boy, dragged his visitor out of the door and started
up the stairs, telling him volubly of the treat that was in store for
him in the perfections of a certain small young gentleman who had been
responsible for his tardiness in appearing below.

When Norman threw back a silken portiere up-stairs and flung open a
door, the scene that greeted Keith was one that made him agree that
Norman was fully justified. A yellow-haired boy was rolling on the
floor, kicking up his little pink legs in all the abandon of his years,
while a blue-eyed little girl was sitting in a nurse's lap, making
strenuous efforts