She had managed to recover her self-control: a deep flush invaded her pallour. Then, under the eyes of them all, very quietly she did a thing which confirmed the admiration and respect of everybody there: she extended her child-like hand to her husband, saying: "It is nice to see you again, and I’m very sure that there is enough tea for everybody." Her hand lay in her husband’s for an appreciable moment; then he bent over it, lower, to conceal the nervous working of his features—and touched it with trembling lips—something he had never before done in all his life—and passing, by the same token, out of the free and arid desert of his folly, he rested, _sub jugum_, beside the still waters of eternal truth. Helen went on toward her room to shed her clay-stained smock; Stephanie investigated the kettle which was approaching the boiling point, and Cleland deposited the provender on a neighbouring table. "Keep away from them," whispered Stephanie, close beside him—so close that the fragrance of her hair and breath caressed his cheek. "You darling," he motioned with his lips. "Oh, dear! Are we on _such_ a footing!" she asked, with a little quick-drawn breath of smiling dismay. "Why not?" he said under his breath. "You’re awake, now." "Am I?" "Are you not, dearest?" "I—had a wonderful sleep last night," she said perversely. "I don’t know whether I’m awake or not." "Oh, Steve!——" "I don’t, I tell you!——" keeping her gaze smilingly averted and very busy with kettle and tea-caddy.... "Where have you been all day?" "I came down, but you had fled to your lesson. Then I had a date with H. Belter, but he didn’t appear until nearly five. It was a strenuous interview." She lifted her eyes to his, full of interested inquiry. "Yes," he nodded; "he’s found out he’s an ass, and he’s in love with his wife. If she can stand for him now, after these three years, I think he’ll make a better husband than the average." "She’s a dear," murmured Stephanie. "What a painful situation!—but wasn’t she dignified and sweet? Oh, I do hope she cares enough for Harry to give him another chance.... Are they amiable together over there? I don’t want to turn around." He cautiously surveyed the scene out of a corner of his eye: "She’s seated beside the piano. It’s evident she hasn’t asked him to be seated. They are horribly serious. He looks ten years older." "We must let them alone. Tea is ready, but I sha’n’t say so until they move.... What was it you asked me, Jim?—whether I am awake? ... Do you know that I believe I’m stirring in my slumbers because—because, now and then—just for an instant—a stab of contrition goes through and through me. Do you know why? I have a glimmering of guilty misgiving concerning this painful throb of conscience——" She looked about her, searching among the paraphernalia of the tea tray. "Oh, the deuce! I remember, now, that we’re out of lemons! You have some, haven’t you?" "Yes, I’ll run up and——"