"No; don't do that!" says her companion, earnestly. "On no account do that. I think the half-hour before dinner, sitting by the fire, alone, as we are now, the best of the whole day; that is, of course, if one spends it with a congenial companion."
"Are you a congenial companion?"
"I don't know," smiling. "If you will let me, I can at least try to be."
"Try, then, by all means." In a moment or two,—"I should like to fathom your thoughts," says Molly. "When I came in, there was more than bewilderment in your face; it showed—how shall I express it? You looked as though you had expected something else?"
"Will you forgive me if I say I did?"
"What, then? A creature tall, gaunt, weird——?"
"No."
"Fat, red, uncomfortable?"
This touches so nearly on the truth as to be unpleasant. He winces.
"I will tell you what I did not expect," he says, hastily, coloring a little. "How should I? It is so seldom one has the good luck to discover in autumn a rose belonging to June."