countered hers. He glanced rapidly past her, then back to his book. But she, undeterred, with a charming sinuous movement and a frou-frou of trailing silks, crossed over towards him. She slipped into an empty chair next his.
"I'm going to do you the honour of sitting beside you, Mr. Campbell," she said sweetly.
"It's an honour I've done nothing whatever to merit," he answered, without looking at her, and turned a page.
"The right retort," she approved; "but you might have said it a little more cordially."
"I don't feel cordial."
"But why not? What has happened? Yesterday you were so nice."
"Ah, a good deal of water has run under the bridge since yesterday."
"But still the river remains as full," she told him, smiling, "and still the sky is as blue. The thermometer has even risen six degrees. Out-of-doors, to-day, I could feel the spring-time in the air. You, too, love the spring, don't you? I know that from your books. And I wanted to tell you, I think your books perfectly lovely. I know them, most all. I've read them away home. They're very much thought of in America. Only last night I was saying to Nannie how glad I am to have met you, for I think we're going to be great friends; aren't we, Mr. Campbell? At least, I hope so, for you can do me so much good, if you will. Your books always make me feel real good; but you yourself can help me much more."
She looked up at him with one of her warm, narrow red-brown glances, which yesterday would have thrilled his blood, and to-day merely stirred it to anger.
"You over-estimate my abilities," he said coldly; "and on thewhole,
