"Yes, it does," he said. "But you taught me a lot that day that I haven't forgotten—and at the Willows too." He paused, as if groping for the right phrase. "I guess you were the first to show me what there was in books."

The joyous colour rushed to her face. At last he had recovered the voice of the other Vance! "Ah, I was young then too," she said with a wistful laugh.

"Young? I guess you're young still." Relapsing into friendly bluntness, he added: "I'm only twenty-two."

"And I'm old enough to be your mother!"

"Say—I guess you're about twenty-five, aren't you?"

She shook her head with a mournful grimace. "You must add one whole year to that. And such heaps and heaps of useless experience! I don't even know how to turn it into stories. But tell me—haven't you at least brought one with you today?"

"A story? No, I haven't brought anything."

She sat silent, inconceivably disappointed. "Shall I make a confession? I hoped you'd want me to see something of yours … after all our talks… ."

"Well, I do; but I want to be sure it's good enough." He moved away from the fire and held out his hand. "I want to go right home now and write something. This is generally my best hour."

She put her hand reluctantly in his. "I suppose I mustn't keep you then. But you'll come back? Come whenever you feel that I might help."

"Surely," he said with his rare smile; she was not sure she had ever seen him smile before. It made him look more boyish than ever. "I suppose I can see your husband on Monday?" he added.

Yes, she thought he could; but she repeated severely that he must be sure to telephone and make an appointment. "Editors are busy people, you know, Vance," she added rather maternally, slipping back into her old way of addressing him. "If you make another appointment you must be sure to keep it—be on the stroke, I mean. My husband was rather surprised at your not coming yesterday, at your not even sending word. His time is—precious."

He met this with a youthful seriousness. "Yes, I presume he would be annoyed; but he won't be when I've explained. I couldn't help it, you see; I had to see the girl I'm going to marry before I did anything else."

Halo drew back a step and looked at him with startled eyes. She felt as if something she had been resting on had given way under her. "You're going to marry?"

"Yes," he said, with illuminated eyes. "That's the reason I've got to get to work as quick as I can. I guess your husband'll understand that. And I'll be sure to be at the office whatever time he wants me on Monday."

When he had gone Héloïse Tarrant sat down alone and looked into the fire.

Chapter 5