She was dressed in a morning gown of a soft red material, trimmed with old cream lace. The material of a woman’s dress had never interested him before. He knew calico from silk, but beyond that he never ventured an opinion. To colour alone he was responsive. This combination of red and creamy white, with the bodice cut low showing the lines of her beautiful white shoulders and the great mass of dark hair rising in graceful curves from her full round neck heightened her beauty to an extraordinary degree. As she walked, the clinging folds of her dress, outlining her queenly figure, seemed part of her very being and to be imbued with her soul. He was dazzled with the new revelation of her power over him. “Have you no apology, sir, for pretending that you were going home this morning?” she said seating herself by his side. “You didn’t ask me to stay with fervour.” “It ought not to have been necessary.” “Didn’t you really know I was not going?” “Yes.” “I’m glad.” “Yes, you see I’m twenty-one years old, and I’ve seen such things happen before!” she purred this slowly and burst into laughter. “Now, Miss Sallie, that’s cruel to throw me down in a heap of dead dogs I don’t even know.” “Don’t you like dogs?” “Four legged ones, yes. But I like my friends alive.” “Oh! It didn’t kill any of them. They are all strong and hearty. But if you’re so domestic in your tastes why haven’t you settled in life?” “Been waiting to find the woman of my dreams.” “And you haven’t found her?” “Not up to yesterday.” “Oh! I forgot,” she said archly, “you’re so timid.” “Honestly, I was.” “Up to yesterday!” she murmured. “Well, tell me what your dreams demanded? What kind of a creature must she be?” “I have forgotten.” “What! Forgotten the dreams of your ideal woman?” “Yes.” “Since when?” “Yesterday.” “Thanks. We are getting on beautifully, aren’t we? You will get over your timidity in time, I’m sure.” He smiled, looked down at the pattern of the carpet and did not speak for some minutes. His soul was thrilled and satisfied in her presence. As he lifted his eyes from the floor they rested on the piano. “Will you play for me, Miss Sallie? Auntie says you play delightfully.” “Auntie? Who is Auntie?” “Mrs. Durham, my foster mother, of course. Excuse my unconscious assumption of your familiarity with all my antecedents. I can’t get over the impression that I have known you all my life.” “And that reminds me that I started to say something to you yesterday that was perfectly ridiculous, but caught myself in time.” “I wish you had said it.” “Mrs. Durham is a great flatterer of those she loves. She thinks I can play. But I’m the veriest amateur.” “Let me be the judge.” She was looking over her music, and he had opened the piano. “I ’ll play for you with pleasure. Sit there in that big arm chair. I’m sorry I tired you so early in the day with my chatter.”