“You had better not, if your reason is even within sight of her throne.  When the danger was all over I caught a mental glimpse of myself, and fell over as if shot;” and a slow, deep crimson stole into her face.

“Madge,” said Graydon, gravely and almost rebukingly, “do you think there was a man present who did not reverence you?  I was proud even of your acquaintance.”

Her face softened under his words, but she did not look at him.  “We were partners in misery,” she said, laughing softly; “I have a vague remembrance that you were as great a guy as I was.”

“I shall be glad to be a guy with you in any circumstances you can imagine, if you will let me make my peace, and will forgive my general stupidity.  Be reasonable also, as well as merciful.  If it took you over two years to make such changes, you should give me a few days to rub my eyes and get them focused on the result.”

Madge was now laughing heartily.  “I don’t believe a man could ever eat the whole of a humble pie,” she said.  “He ever insists that the donor, especially if she be a woman, should have a piece also.”

“There, now,” cried Graydon, ruefully; “give me all of it, and make your terms.”

“Solomon himself couldn’t have advised you better,” said Madge, while Henry leaned back in his chair and laughed as if immensely amused, while Mary improved the occasion by remarking, “When will men ever learn that that is the way to get the best terms possible from a woman?”

“Indeed!” said Graydon.  “How you enlighten me!  Well, Madge, I’m the more eager now to learn your terms.”

She felt that it was a critical moment—­that there was, under their badinage, a substratum of truth and feeling—­and that she had now a chance to establish relations that would favor her hope, if it had a right to exist at all, and render future companionship free from surmise on the part of her family.

“Come, Graydon,” she said, “we have jested long enough, and there is no occasion for misunderstanding.  I have not forgotten the past any more than you have, nor all your unstinted kindness for years.  As Mary says, this is a family party.  I’m not your sister, and embarrassment always accompanies an unnatural relation.  The common-sense thing to do is to recognize the relation that does exist.  As I intimated at first, I see no reason why we should not be the best of friends, and then, imitating the stiff-necked Hebrews, do what seemeth good in our eyes.”

“And these are your terms, Madge?”

“As far as I have any, yes.  I don’t insist on anything, but warn you that I shall follow my eyes, and consult a very wilful little will of my own.”

“Will your wilful will permit you to accept of a horse that I am going after in the morning?  Dr. Sommers told me about him, and I had proposed to make him a peace-offering.”

Madge clapped her hands with the delight of a child.