“--And after you went out,” she continued, “what had happened seemed suddenly to demoralise me. I was exasperated.... I tore your rose from my belt and threw it after you.... I slammed the door and bolted it.... As though I could bolt out what had happened to me!--” She laughed and looked happily into his eyes,--“Barry! As though I could bolt it out!” He kissed her hands; her lips caressed his bent head. “... And, do you know,” she went on, “I even swore at you?” “Swore at----” Laughter checked him. “Yes, I damned you. I knew how to. They swear hard on farms.... Oh, Barry, I swore at you like a hired man!” “You dear,” he said, “--you dear!” “You say that now, but you nearly drove me mad that evening.... You _did_!” “I was half crazy myself, Eris----” “Were you!” she pleaded with swift tenderness. “Oh, Barry, you are _thin_! You look _ill_. I was frightened when you came in this evening----” She drew his head to her again, caressed it, tender, penitent: “You are _not_ well. Can I do anything?” “You are doing it.” “I know.... I wish I could take care of you----” “You’re going to feed me, presently.” “You make a joke of it; but you’re _ill_, and I did it!” “Blessed child, I’ll be so fat in a week that I’ll waddle like Hattie!” “Show me,” she urged, enchanted. He got up and tried to waddle, and she sank back, convulsed. In fact, they both had become rather light headed by the time Hattie announced dinner. It was love’s April--gusty with unbidden gaiety--with heavenly intervals of calm; of caprice; of stormy contact; of smiles, tremulous, close to tears--lips touching in wonder; and the sudden breeze of laughter freshening, refreshing mind and body:--their April in Love after youth’s long winter. “Poor boy,” she said, “I’ve rather a horrid dinner for you. I was dining out, and you didn’t give me time----” “You broke a dinner engagement for me, Eris?” “I telephoned Nancy Cassell that I couldn’t come. It doesn’t matter.... Anyway, that’s why you’re having omelette and minced chicken....” Now and then she slipped her cool, smooth hand into his under the camouflage of the cloth. And she ate so, sometimes awkwardly; and clung a little to his hand when he would have released hers. Once she drew a deep, uneven breath: “I never expected to be in love,” she said. “Oh, Barry, it’s so inconvenient!” “How?” he protested. “My _dear_! I work like the dickens! It would be all right if I could come back to you at night. But this way----” After a silence: “That must happen, too, Eris.” “I’ll have to talk to you about that.... And there are evenings when I must study--rehearse before the mirror--or read very hard. And some evenings I am dead tired.... And then there are dinners.... And one’s friends.... Darling!--you look at me so oddly!” “Well--as I’m in love with you, I’d rather like to see you more than twice a year----” She laughed and caught his hands--set her lips to them--looked up at him again with her heart in her eyes.