Now, I suppose I shall have to recommence your subjection.

Ring for tea, please.

And, Susanne"-- speaking in French and gathering up a fluffy heap of mended summer waists--"these might as well be sent to the laundress--thank you, little one; your sewing is always beautiful." The small maid, blushing with pleasure, left the room, both arms full of feminine apparel; Selwyn rang for tea, then strolled back to the window, where he stood with both hands thrust into his coat-pockets, staring out at the sunset.
A primrose light bathed the city.

Below, through the new foliage of the Park, the little lake reflected it in tints of deeper gold and amber where children clustered together, sailing toy ships.

But there was no wind; the tiny sails and flags hung motionless, and out and in, among the craft becalmed, steered a family of wild ducks, the downy yellow fledglings darting hither and thither in chase of gnats, the mother bird following in leisurely solicitude.
And, as he stood there, absently intent on sky and roof and foliage, her soft bantering voice aroused him; and turning he found her beside him, her humorous eyes fixed on his face.
"Suppose," she said, "that we go back to first principles and resume life properly by shaking hands.