They rose, gathered the children for dinner, ands after three hours
in the woods, returned to the city as the twilight softly fell over
its ragged steel and granite sky-line.

"You must take tea with us to-night," she said, as they stepped
from the boat.

His wife would not return for supper and he consented.

It was not the first time he had spent an hour at the table of
the Ransom household. Mrs. Ransom deemed herself honoured by his
visits, and his chats with the invalid father about books were
bright spots in his life.

Kate had sent the stringed band from the boat to the house and
stationed them in the conservatory opening into the dining-room.
The tender strains of the music, the splash of a fountain mingled
with the songs of birds in their cages, the gleam of silver and
diamond flash of cut glass, gave Gordon's senses a soothing contrast
to the wild beauty of the woods. His nature responded to art and
luxury as quickly as to the sensuous voice of Nature in the glory
of her summer's splendour.

There was something in this glittering beauty, cold and cruel,
that appealed to him. He always felt at home in such surroundings.
Beneath his idealism and love of humanity there was still hidden
somewhere the nerve of an Epicurean.

When Kate appeared, dressed for tea, simply but richly, with her