Her prettiness and charm--of which she was modestly but confidently aware, by her experience of its effect--was a great satisfaction. It was remarkably noticeable today. In front of the glass Edith hesitated between her favourite plain sailor hat and a new black velvet toque, which shaded her eyes, contrasting with the fair hair of which very little showed, and giving her an aspect of dashing yet discreet coquetry. She looked younger in the other sailor hat (so she decided when she put it on again) and more as she used to look. Which was the more attractive? She decided on novelty, and went out, finally, in the toque. Of course only another woman could have appreciated the remarkable fact that she could wear at thirty-five such a small hat and yet look fresh. Certainly a brim was more flattering to most women of her age, but the contour of Edith's face was still as youthful as ever; she had one of those clearly shaped oval faces that are not disposed to growing thick and broad, or to haggardness. The oval might be a shade wider than it was three years ago; that was all the more becoming; did it not make the features look smaller? * * * * * As she went out she laughed at herself for giving so much thought to her appearance. It was as though she believed she was going to play an important part in the chief scene of a play. Once dressed, as usual she lost all self-consciousness, and thought of outside things. Miss Clay was out, as she had told Edith she would be, and the servant showed her in. She saw at once that Aylmer, also, had been looking forward to this moment with some excitement. He, too, had dressed with special care; and she knew, without being told, that orders had been given to receive no other visitors. He was sitting in an arm-chair, with the bandaged leg on the other chair, a small table by his side laid for tea. Even a kettle was boiling (no doubt to avoid interruption). It was his old brown library, where she had occasionally seen him with others in the old days. But this was literally the first time she had seen him in his own house alone. It was essentially a man's room. Comfortable, but not exactly luxurious; very little was sacrificed to decoration. There were a few very old dark pictures on the walls. The room was crammed with books in long, low bookcases. On the mantelpiece was a pewter vase of cerise-coloured carnations. An uncut _English Review_ was in his hand, but he threw it on the floor with a characteristic gesture as she came in. 'You look very comfortable,' said Edith, as she took her seat in the arm-chair placed for her. He answered gravely, speaking in his direct, quick way, with his sincere manner: 'It was very good of you to come.' 'Shall I pour out your tea?' 'Yes. Let's have tea and get it over.' She laughed, took off her gloves, and he watched her fingers as they occupied themselves with the china, as though he were impatient for the ceremony to be finished.