closely, at which it disappeared, and a voice from the street said:--

"Is that you, Courtland?"

"Yes. Come in, won't you?"

The voice was Champney's, and the light was from his cigar. As he
opened the gate and came slowly up the steps of the portico the usual
hesitation of his manner seemed to have increased. A long sigh trilled
the limp leaves of the ailantus and as quickly subsided. A few heavy
perpendicular raindrops crashed and spattered through the foliage like
molten lead.

"You've just escaped the shower," said Courtland pleasantly. He had not
seen Champney since they parted in the cemetery six weeks before.

"Yes!--I--I thought I'd like to have a little talk with you, Courtland,"
said Champney. He hesitated a moment before the proffered chair, and
then added, with a cautious glance towards the street, "Hadn't we better
go inside?"

"As you like. But you'll find it wofully hot. We're quite alone here;
there's nobody in the house, and this shower will drive any loungers
from the street." He was quite frank, although their relations to each
other in regard to Miss Sally were still so undefined as to scarcely
invite his confidence.

Howbeit Champney took the proffered chair and the glass of julep which
Courtland brought him.