windows. And in the door the young proprietor was smiling happily, for
down the long, straight, tree-lined road an automobile which had just
left the chateau was coming, and he had visions of what it would mean.

"I didn't." She nodded her head. "It's a way life has, this bringing of
somebody across our path, this taking of somebody out of it, as
incidentally as if we were flies. Well, that's what I used to think most
of us were. Flies! Those who weren't flies were spiders. Some buzzed,
some bit, and all in a net--all! And to think of the way I was taken by
the shoulders and turned around! Made to see all I'd been doing was
squinting at life with my nose turned up. Just that! Because I had seen
the just man perish in his righteousness, and the wicked prosper in his
wickedness, I thought, with my ancient friend, that time and chance
happeneth to all, and people and pigs had much in common. What an old
fool you were, Gibbie Gault! Take your pill! You saw life as you wanted
to see it, and, giving nothing to it, got nothing out of it. Right!

"Queer what a kiss can do--just one!" She drew in her breath and felt
it all again. The automobile had stopped. A party of Americans had
gotten out and, slowly drinking her coffee, she watched them. A man and
his wife, two children, a nurse, and a young girl, twenty, perhaps.
Something about her, something of glow and vividness and warmth, held
her, and a faint memory was stirred. A clear, fresh voice called to the
chauffeur as she sprang out of the car and came close to the table near
which she was sitting, and then she heard her name spoken in joyous
surprise.

"It's Miss Gibbie Gault! Oh, Aunt Katherine, it is Miss Gibbie Gault!"

Without warning, two strong young arms were thrown around her neck