Even his table was laid with his small store of dishes, and food placed upon it, still covered in the basket he was now so accustomed to see. Sweet and dainty it all was. He had only to light the fat pine sticks laid beneath the kettle swung above and make his tea, and his meal was ready. Had she divined he would not stop at the Fall Place this time, when in the past it had been his custom to do so? Ah, she knew; for is not the little winged god a wonderful teacher?

Thryng was humbled in the very dust and ashes of repentance as he sat down to his late dinner. The fragrance in the room, all he ate, everything he touched, filled his senses with her; and he — he had only brought her sorrow. He had come into her life but to bruise her spirit and leave her sad at heart with a deep sadness he dared not and could not