s and the soft
mass of fur fell into a chair. "And, by the way, Drina said that you
couldn't wait to see Nina," she continued, turning to face a mirror and
beginning to withdraw the jewelled pins from her hat, "so you won't for
a moment consider it necessary to remain just because I wandered
in--will you?"

He made no reply; she was still busy with her veil and hat and her
bright, glossy hair, the ends of which curled up at the temples--a
burnished frame for her cheeks which the cold had delicately flushed to
a wild-rost tint. Then, brushing back the upcurled tendrils of her hair,
she turned to confront him, faintly smiling, brows lifted in silent
repetition of her question.

"I will stay until Nina comes, if I may," he said slowly.

She seated herself. "You may," she said mockingly; "we don't allow you
in the house very often, so when you do come you may remain until the
entire family can congregate to inspect you." She leaned back, looking
at him; then look and manner changed, and she bent impulsively forward:

"You don't look very well, Captain Selwyn; are you?"

"Perfectly. I"--he laughed--"I am growing old; that is all."

"Do you say that to annoy me?" she asked, with a disdainful shrug, "or
to further impress me?"

He shook his head and touched the hair at his temples significantly.

"Pooh!" she retorted. "It is becoming--is that what you mean?"

"I hope it is. There's no reason why a man should not grow old
gracefully--"

"Captain Selwyn! But of course you only say it to bring out that latent
temper of mine. It's about the only thing that does it, too. . . . And
please don't plague me--if you've only a few moments to stay. . . . It
may amuse you to know that I, too, am exhibiting signs of increasing
infirmity; my temper, if you please, is not what it once was."

"Worse than ever?" he asked in pretended astonishment.

"Far worse. It is vicious. Kit-Ki took a nap on a new dinner-gown of
mine, and I slapped her. And the other day Drina hid in a clothes-press
while Nina was discussing my private affairs, and when the little imp
emerged I could have shaken her. Oh, I am certainly becoming infirm; so
if you are, too, comfort yourself with the knowledge that I am keeping
pace with you through the winter of our discontent."

At the mention of the incident of which Drina had already spoken to him,
Selwyn raised his head and looked at the girl curiously. Then he
laughed.

"I am wondering," he said in a ban