She received him in her old manner, without any of the stiffness he had feared the months might have made.
"Ah, Gordon," she said. "I'm so glad you came."
She led the way swiftly into the library. A little wood fire, against the chill of the autumn evening, was blazing in the wide fireplace; under the lamp on the broad table lay a book she must have put down a moment before.
"What have you been reading? Oh, Walden!" And he turned to her with the smile of their old comradeship in such things.
"I've been reading it again, yes," she said, "and I've wished to talk it over again with you. So you see I'm glad you came."
"I came with a message from--"
"Oh!" The bright look faded from her eyes. "Well, I'm glad, then, that some one sent you to me."
He saw his mistake, and grieved for it.
"I wanted to come," he stammered. "I've been intending to come, Elizabeth, anyway, and--"
He felt he was only making the matter worse, and he hated himself for his awkwardness.