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Then, suddenly as it had come, the storm passed, trailing dark, yellow-gray, ragged clouds in its wake. The light came back and the awed girls at the little window saw below them in the emerald meadows, wide ugly yellow splotches that grew as they looked, meeting other growing patches of swirling yellow water from the lanes and roads. Trees showed fresh wounds and masses of broken branches clotted the discolored waters of the brook. Birds called excitedly and flew exultantly about in the limpid air. The sun flung gay greens and golds. The storm was past. "Perhaps I can assist you." "She isn't in mourning," said Elinor, making a discovery. "I wonder who she is. She's impressive enough to be the president of the board, and Bruce says that's the most important person in the place.".

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Bruce and Elinor were inspecting the rooms on the other side of the studio, and had passed out of sight behind the second doorway. Patricia forgot her censorship as the spirit of the explorer rose in her. The day passed delightfully, with morning service at the famous Dr. Arnold's stately church, a specially sociable dinner at home, and a 'bus ride through the crisp sunshine of the afternoon into the snowy outskirts, with a cozy little tea in Miss Jinny's big front room, where they could watch the twilight gather among the bare trees of the park and the lamps sparkle out among the shadows. After supper Mr. Spicer invited them in to see his collection of photographs which he had taken in all parts of the civilized and barbarous world, before the long illness, contracted in the swamps of West Africa, had put a stop to his active, adventurous life as a collector for the University. "Why, it's like a laundry," exclaimed Patricia in disappointment as she looked about her. The low-ceiled whitewashed apartment into which they had descended from the winding iron stair was sepulchrally bare and empty in the flicker of its noisy gas jets, the rusty gas stoves at its farther end emphasizing its general air of desolation. "Blossom," he said, after he had hushed me with another broken dose of love, as large as he thought I could stand—I could have stood more!—"I am never going to tell you how long I have loved you, but that day you came to me all in a flutter with Bennett's letter in your hand it is going to take you a lifetime to settle for. You were mine—and Bill's! How could you—but women don't understand!" I felt him shudder in my arms as I held him close..