The darling! She had wondered about him! She slipped her arm through his like a little girl, and Wilfred pressed it. Something broke loose in his breast. He roared up through the house: “Clear the track for we are coming!” And galloped up the stairs, dragging the laughing and protesting Mildred after. Only once or twice in his life had Wilfred found his whole voice like that. On the last dark landing she pulled back a little. He got it. His eager arms went around her with a will. He crushed the slender delicious body against his own. Ah! what a moment! To close his arms about his dream, and find them full! To be assured that he was no sprite, but a man like other men! Their lips hungrily sought each other in the dark. Again and again! Never should he get enough! Oh woman! Oh mystery of delight! Oh terrifying feast to be halved with a hungry stranger! They entered the lighted room carefully apart from each other; subdued and highly self-conscious. A roar of laughter greeted them. They blushed scarlet, but rather enjoyed it. Mildred made haste to lose herself amongst the girls. The dignified Stanny tempted Wilfred. Seizing his hands, Wilfred whirled him about like a dervish. “Have you gone crazy?” said Stanny, affronted. Stanny was not having a good time. He desired to shine in the eyes of the little Scotch girl, and that ridiculous, ogling Bella was making him look like a fool! In some sort of hand-holding game that they all played, Bella, pretending to be insulted, accused Stanny of having tickled her palm. Stanny’s sense of humor was not equal to it. Pure hatred glittered in his eyes, as he denied the charge. Wilfred will never forget the picture made by Bella in the red flannel dress, sitting in the middle of the floor with her toes sticking up, embracing the mighty demijohn, and coyly expressing a hope that no gentleman would take advantage of her condition. None did. Hunger set them all cascading down the stairs. Supper was served in Bella’s shop at the rear, amidst the queer polished forms on which the “shoulderbraces” were made. A difference arose between Jasper and Charley, upon the latter’s expressing a desire to share the society of the aristocratic Hattie. For a moment a row threatened; but Wilfred had the happy idea of suggesting that they settle it by seeing which could first pitch an apple into a stove pipe hole near the ceiling. After sundry apples had been squashed against the wall, Jasper won. Wilfred and Mildred, sitting a little apart from the others, ate largely, while they gazed at each other, no longer ashamed. “Funny, how it makes you hungry,” said Wilfred, grinning. “How what does?” asked Mildred, with an innocent air. “Well . . . you know!” Mildred giggled.