Leaning her head against the window-sill, she began stringing on the thread of a tune the things that just then thrilled her with a sense of their beauty.
"Oh, the locus'-trees a-blowin'," she sang, softly.

"An' the moon a-shinin' through them.

An' the starlight an' pink roses; an' Amanthis--an' Amanthis!" She hummed it over and over until Walker had finished carrying the dishes away.
It was a strange thing that the Colonel's unfrequent moods of tenderness were like those warm days that they call weather-breeders.
They were sure to be followed by a change of atmosphere.

This time as the fierce rheumatic pain came back he stormed at Walker, and scolded him for everything he did and everything he left undone.
When Maria came up to put Lloyd to bed, Fritz was tearing around the room barking at his shadow.
"Put that dog out, M'ria!" roared the Colonel, almost crazy with its antics.

"Take it down-stairs, and put it out of the house, I say! Nobody but a heathen would let a dog sleep in the house, anyway." The homesick feeling began to creep over Lloyd again.