“What did you say?”

“I suggested,” said the pink and pluperfect one, “that you ought to see the gymnasium and swimming-pool at any rate.  I’m informed that the pool is the largest in the State, and ...”

But Cally had seen that the man from another world was stepping out from his obscurity; and now there sounded above the Avery periods the vivid voice first heard in the summer-house.

“Miss Heth!—­may I say how-do-you-do?...  I hadn’t seen you till that moment.  In fact, I had no idea you were here ...”

“Oh, yes, indeed.  I’m a Life Member, if you please,” said Cally turning, looking again at the owner of that voice.  “How do you do?  Do you know Mr. Avery, Dr. Vivian?”

The two men bowed.  Young Mr. V.V. had not long retained the slim hand which—­such was his lot—­had been offered to him for the first time in his life.

“Oh, Miss Kemper!” added Cally.  “Do forgive me—­I didn’t recognize your back at all.  May I introduce Mr. Avery?...”

And then, while Mr. Avery paid reluctant devoirs to the lady in the purple bonnet, Cally said quite easily to Dr. Vivian: 

“I was just debating whether or not to make an exploring expedition over the whole Settlement.  Is there much to see?—­or is it mostly rooms?”

“Oh, mostly rooms,” said Mr. V.V.

He seemed to begin a smile at this point, and then to change his mind about it.  The smile, if such it was, ended short, as if clipped off.

“This door,” he added turning to the fresh-painted portal at his elbow, “leads to one of them....  A fair sample, I imagine.  This one happens to be a—­ah—­a sort of sewing-class room, I believe....”

“Oh, a sewing-class room!  That must be where I was offered a position.”

“Will you look at it?”

“I’d like to.  Only I can’t sew a bit, you see....”

She stepped exploringly through the open door, into the sort of sewing-class room.  V. Vivian walked after her; and behind him he distinctly heard the surprised and somewhat offended voice of the Kemper: 

“Funny!  I thought that was Mr. Pond I was talking to all the time.”

“It’s—­it’s a very nice place,” said Cally, glancing about her as she advanced.

Not that it mattered, but it really was not a particularly nice place, only a rather dark and small chamber, smelling of paint and entirely empty save for one bench.

“Not a great deal to see, as you notice,” said the summer-house voice behind her, sounding somehow changed since last year....  “Not much of a class could sit on the bench, I fear.  Or perhaps it’s this next room that’s for sewing.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Cally.

And then she turned suddenly upon Mr. V.V., facing him, looking up with a sweet, half-wistful smile such as her face had never worn before for him.

“But tell me something about yourself....  What sort of summer have you had?”