The greeting between her and the young man was more cordial than might have been expected.  Mrs. Yorke was surprised to find how Keith had developed.  He had broadened, and though his face was thin, it had undeniable distinction.  His manner was so dignified that Mrs. Yorke was almost embarrassed.

“Why, how you have changed!” she exclaimed.  What she said to herself was:  “What a bother for this boy to come here now, just when Alice is getting her mind settled!  But I will get rid of him.”

She began to question him as to his plans.

What Keith had said to himself when the step on the stair and the rustling gown introduced Mrs. Yorke’s portly figure was:  “Heavens! it’s the old lady!  I wonder what the old dragon will do, and whether I am not to see Her!” He observed her embarrassment as she entered the room, and took courage.

The next moment they were fencing across the room, and Keith was girding himself like another young St. George.

How was his school coming on? she asked.

He was not teaching any more.  He had been to college, and had now taken up engineering.  It offered such advantages.

She was so surprised.  She would have thought teaching the very career for him.  He seemed to have such a gift for it.

Keith was not sure that this was not a “touch.”  He quoted Dr. Johnson’s definition that teaching was the universal refuge of educated indigents.  “I do not mean to remain an indigent all my life,” he added, feeling that this was a touch on his part.

Mrs. Yorke pondered a moment.

“But that was not his name.  His name was Balsam.  I know, because I had some trouble getting a bill out of him.”

Keith changed his mind about the touch.

Just then there was another rustle on the stair and another step,—­this time a lighter one,—­and the next moment appeared what was to the young man a vision.

Keith’s face, as he rose to greet her, showed what he thought.  For a moment, at least, the dragon had disappeared, and he stood in the presence only of Alice Yorke.

The girl was, indeed, as she paused for a moment just in the wide doorway under its silken hangings,—­the minx! how was he to know that she knew how effective the position was?—­a picture to fill a young man’s eye and flood his face with light, and even to make an old man’s eye grow young again.  The time that had passed had added to the charm of both face and figure; and, arrayed in her daintiest toilet of blue and white, Alice Yorke was radiant enough to have smitten a much harder heart than that which was at the moment thumping in Keith’s breast and looking forth from his eager eyes.  The pause in the doorway gave just time for the picture to be impressed forever in Keith’s mind.

Her eyes were sparkling, and her lips parted with a smile of pleased surprise.

“How do you do?” She came forward with outstretched arm and a cordial greeting.