Just then young Carman came strolling up the path. Mr. Spring Fragrance opened the door to him. “Come in, neighbor,” said he. “I have received some new books from Shanghai.”

“Good,” replied young Carman, who was interested in Chinese literature. While he and Mr. Spring Fragrance discussed the “Odes of Chow” and the “Sorrows of Han,” Mrs. Spring Fragrance, sitting in a low easy-chair of rose-colored silk, covertly studied her visitor’s countenance. Why was his expression so much more grave than gay? It had not been so a year ago—before he had known the Inferior Woman. Mrs. Spring Fragrance noted other changes, also, both in speech and manner. “He is no longer a boy,” mused she. “He is a man, and it is the work of the Inferior Woman.”

“And when, Mr. Carman,” she inquired, “will you bring home a daughter to your mother?”

“And when, Mrs. Spring Fragrance, do you think I should?” returned the young man.

Mrs. Spring Fragrance spread wide her fan and gazed thoughtfully over its silver edge.

“The summer moons will soon be over,” said she. “You should not wait until the grass is yellow.”

“The woodmen’s blows responsive ring,

As on the trees they fall,

And when the birds their sweet notes sing,

They to each other call.

From the dark valley comes a bird,

And seeks the lofty tree,

Ying goes its voice, and thus it cries:

‘Companion, come to me.’

The bird, although a creature small

Upon its mate depends,

And shall we men, who rank o’er all,

Not seek to have our friends?”

quoted Mr. Spring Fragrance.

Mrs. Spring Fragrance tapped his shoulder approvingly with her fan.

“I perceive,” said young Carman, “that you are both allied against my peace.”

“It is for your mother,” replied Mrs. Spring Fragrance soothingly. “She will be happy when she knows that your affections are fixed by marriage.”

There was a slight gleam of amusement in the young man’s eyes as he answered: “But if my mother has no wish for a daughter—at least, no wish for the daughter I would want to give her?”

“When I first came to America,” returned Mrs. Spring Fragrance, “my husband desired me to wear the American dress. I protested and declared that never would I so appear. But one day he brought home a gown fit for a fairy, and ever since then I have worn and adored the American dress.”

“Mrs. Spring Fragrance,” declared young Carman, “your argument is incontrovertible.”

II

A YOUNG MAN WITH A determined set to his shoulders stood outside the door of a little cottage perched upon a bluff overlooking the Sound. The chill sea air was sweet with the scent of roses, and he drew in a deep breath of inspiration before he knocked.

“Are you not surprised to see me?” he inquired of the young person who opened the door.

“Not at all,” replied the young person demurely.

He gave her a quick almost fierce look. At their last parting he had declared that he would not come again unless she requested him, and that she assuredly had not done.