The door of the summer-house stood wide to the night. Yet so breathless was the air that the candles within (set by Mrs Bowldler on the table beside the glasses and decanters) carried a flame as unwavering as any star of the firmament. So the two friends sat and smoked, and between their puffed tobacco-smoke penetrated the dewy scents of the garden. Both were out-tired with the day's labours; for both were growing old. "'Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all,'" murmured Cai. "'Twas a noble text we chose." "Ay," responded 'Bias, drawing the pipe from his lips. "She've kept a widow just thirty-six years. An unusual time, I should say." "Very," agreed Cai. They gazed out into the quiet night, as though it held all their future and they found it good.