But he could not say this to his wife. She admired him because of his determination to make the dismal, uphill fight. With a new consideration for her, he tried to refrain from the little jeers which had distressed her.
Floyd came to him one day that autumn with a proposal that they should join a shooting party in Tennessee. To Stewart, who had not been on such an expedition since his marriage, the idea was exhilarating. Lydia was delighted.
"It will be just the thing for you," she said.
"You don't mind my going off and leaving you?" Stewart asked.
She was pleased by such anxiety. "I'll content myself by being just as gay as I can while you're away," she answered. "You won't let him forget me, will you, Floyd?"
She said it laughing, heedlessly, and then something in Floyd's eyes reminded her of that which she had forgotten. She flushed, and there was an awkwardness that Stewart felt without understanding.
The two weeks' shooting had a very soothing influence on Stewart's mind. He was the crack shot of the party, and no one was ever happier than Stewart when he was able to excel. The weather was good, game plentiful, the life not too rough; and he returned North knowing that he was admired by his companions as a marksman, a clever and accomplished gentleman, and a good fellow. He was ready to have another fling at architecture and be admired for his skill in that.
At the little suburban station on the edge of Avalon, Lydia was waiting for him. He had his first glimpse of her through the window—sitting expectant on the high seat of the trap and holding the reins over the cobs that had been his birthday present to her. The cobs were restless, rocking the trap back and forth, and she was steadying them with a competent hand, and at the same time looking eagerly towards the train. Then for just a moment he lost sight of her; but when he appeared on the platform she waved her whip in salute and laughed; and
