ch she knew nothing; absorbed in them to her
utter exclusion, leaving her here with the long evening before her and
nothing to do--because her eyes were not yet strong enough to use for
reading.

Lansing was saying: "I'll drive as far as the club with you, and then
you can drop me and come back later."

"Right, my son; I'll finish a letter and then come back--"

"Can't you write it at the club?"

"Not that letter," he replied in a low voice; and, turning to Eileen,
smiled his absent, detached smile, offering his hand.

But she lay back, looking straight up at him.

"Are you going?"

"Yes; I have several--"

"Stay with me," she said in a low voice.

For a moment the words meant nothing; then blank surprise silenced him,
followed by curiosity.

"Is there something you wished to tell me?" he asked.

"N-no."

His perplexity and surprise grew. "Wait a second, Boots," he said; and
Mr. Lansing, being a fairly intelligent young man, went out and down the
stairway.

"Now," he said, too kindly, too soothingly, "what is it, Eileen?"

"Nothing. I thought--but I don't care. Please go, Captain Selwyn."

"No, I shall not until you tell me what troubles you."

"I can't."

"Try, Eileen."

"Why, it is nothing; truly it is nothing. . . . Only I was--it is so
early--only a quarter past eight--"

He stood there looking down at her, striving to understand.

"That is all," she said, flushing a trifle; "I can't read and I can't
sew and there's nobody here. . . . I don't mean to bother you--"

"Child," he exclaimed, "do you _want_ me to stay?"

"Yes," she said; "will you?"

He walked swiftly to the landing outside and looked down.

"Boots!" he called in a low voice, "I'm not going home yet. Don't wait
for me at the Lenox."

"All right," returned Mr. Lansing cheerfully. A moment later the front
door closed below. Then Selwyn came back into the library.

For an hour he sat there telling her the gayest stories and talking the
most delightful nonsense, alternating with interesting incisions into
serious subjects: which it enchanted her to dissect under his confident
guidance.

Alert, intelligent, all aquiver between laughter and absorption, she had
sat up among her silken pillows, resting her weight on one rounded arm,
her splendid young eyes fixed on him to detect and follow and interpret
every change in his expression personal to the subject and to her share
in it.

His old self again! What could be more welc