The sabre cut on Von Shierbrand’s face gleamed.

“You certainly seem at the antipodes of death, Miss Barrington,” he said with a certain thickness in his utterance.  “And I, personally, can think of nothing more exhilarating than in living beside you.  I meant to wait—­to wait a long time before asking you.  But what is the use of waiting?  I want you to marry me.  I feel as if it must be—­as if I couldn’t get along without you to help me enjoy things.”

Kate looked at him wonderingly.  It was before the afternoon concert and they were sitting in Honora’s rejuvenated drawing-room while they waited for the others to come downstairs.

“But, Dr. von Shierbrand!” she cried, “I don’t like a city without suburbs!”

“I beg your pardon!”

“I like to see signs of my City of Happiness as I approach—­outlying villas, and gardens, and then straggling, pleasant neighborhoods, and finally Town.”

“Oh, I see.  You mean I’ve been too unexpected.  Can’t you overlook that?  You’re an abrupt person yourself, you know.  I’m persuaded that we could be happy together.”

“But I’m not in love, Dr. von Shierbrand.  I’m sorry.  Frankly, I’d like to be.”

“And have you never been?  Aren’t you nursing a dream of—­”

“No, no; I haven’t had a hopeless love if that’s what you mean.  I’m all lucid and clear and comfortable nowadays—­partly because I’ve stopped thinking about some of the things to which I couldn’t find answers, and partly because Life is answering some of my questions.”

“How to be happy without being in love, perhaps.”

“Well, I am happy—­temperately so.  Perhaps that’s the only degree of happiness I shall ever know.  Of course, when I was younger I thought I should get to some sort of a place where I could stand in swimming glory and rejoice forever, but I see now how stupid I was to think anything of the sort.  I hoped to escape the commonplace by reaching some beatitude, but now I have found that nothing really is commonplace.  It only seems so when you aren’t understanding enough to get at the essential truth of things.”

“Oh, that’s true!  That’s true!” cried Von Shierbrand.

“Oh, Kate, I do love you.  You seem to complete me.  When I’m with you I understand myself.  Please try to love me, dear.  We’ll get a little home and have a garden and a library—­think how restful it will be.  I can’t tell you how I want a place I can call home.”

“There they come,” warned Kate as she heard footsteps on the stairs.  “You must take ‘no’ for your answer, dear man.  I feel just like a mother to you.”

Dr. von Shierbrand arose, obviously offended, and he allied himself with Mary Morrison on the way to the concert.  Kate walked with Honora and David until they met with Professor Wickersham, who was also bound for Mandel Hall and the somewhat tempered classicism which the Theodore Thomas Orchestra offered to “the University crowd.”