and grateful. It contained no element not in harmony with that May Sunday
morning.

Holcroft came and sat on the steps below her. She kept her eyes on the
landscape, for she was consciously enough on her guard now. "I rather guess
you think, Alida, that you are looking at a better picture than any artist
fellow could paint?" he remarked.

"Yes," she replied hesitatingly, "and the picture seems all the more lovely
and full of light because the background is so very dark. I've been thinking
of what happened here last night and what might have happened, and how I felt
then."

"You feel better--different now, don't you? You certainly look so."

"Yes!--You made me very happy by yielding to Mrs. Weeks."

"Oh! I didn't yield to her at all."

"Very well, have it your own way, then."

"I think you had it your way."

"Are you sorry?"

"Do I look so? How did you know I'd be happier if I gave in?"

"Because, as you say, I'm getting better acquainted with you. YOU couldn't
help being happier for a generous act."