ttle Alsatian
maid, cross-legged on the floor at her feet, sewing away diligently,
also looked up, then scrambled to her feet as Selwyn halted on the
threshold of the room.

"Why, how odd you look!" said Eileen, laughing: "come in, please;
Susanne and I are only mending some of my summer things. Were you in
search of the children?--don't say so if you were, because I'm quite
happy in believing that you knew I was here. Did you?"

"Where are the children?" he asked.

"In the Park, my very rude friend. You will find them on the Mall if you
start at once."

He hesitated, but finally seated himself, omitting the little formal
hand-shake with which they always met, even after an hour's separation.
Of course she noticed this, and, bending low above her sewing, wondered
why.

It seemed to him, for a moment, as though he were looking at a woman he
had heard about and had just met for the first time. His observation of
her now was leisurely, calm, and thorough--not so calm, however, when,
impatient of his reticence, bending there over her work, she raised her
dark-blue eyes to his, her head remaining lowered. The sweet, silent
inspection lasted but a moment, then she resumed her stitches, aware
that something in him had changed since she last had seen him; but she
merely smiled quietly to herself, confident of his unaltered devotion in
spite of the strangely hard and unresponsive gaze that had uneasily
evaded hers.

As her white fingers flew with the glimmering needle she reflected on
conditions as she had left them a week ago. A week ago, between him and
her the most perfect of understandings existed; and the consciousness of
it she had carried with her every moment in the country--amid the icy
tumble of the surf, on long vigorous walks over the greening hills where
wild moorland winds whipped like a million fairy switches till the young
blood fairly sang, pouring through her veins.

Since that--some time within the week, _something_ evidently had
happened to him, here in the city while she had been away. What?

As she bent above the fine linen garment on her knee, needle flying, a
sudden memory stirred coldly--the recollection of her ride with
Rosamund; and instinctively her clear eyes flew open and she raised her
head, turning directly toward him a disturbed gaze he did not this time
evade.

In silence their regard lingered; then, satisfied, she smiled again,
saying: "Have I been away so long that we must begin al