"It's quite like old times, isn't it?" he said with an effort. "Quite
like the dear old days at Upton House. Don't I wish we could have them
again."
"The house is still there," said Mrs. Wyatt laughing. "Perhaps you
will come down again some day."
Challoner did not think it likely. There would be something very
painful in going back to the scene of those days, he thought. He was
so much changed from the light-hearted youngster who had chased
Christine round the garden and pulled her hair because she would not
kiss him.
He looked at her with reminiscent eyes. There was a little flush in
her pale cheeks. She looked more like the child-sweetheart he had so
nearly forgotten.
Mrs. Wyatt had moved away. He and Christine were alone. "I used to
kiss you in those days, didn't I?" he asked, looking at her. He felt
miserable and reckless.
She looked up at him with serious eyes. "Yes," she said almost
inaudibly.
Something in her face stirred an old emotion in Jimmy Challoner's
heart. This girl had been his first love, and a man never really
forgets his first love; he leaned nearer to her.
"Christine, do you--do you wish we could have those days over again?"
he asked.
A little quiver crossed her face. For a moment the beautiful brown
eyes lit up radiantly. For a moment she was something better than just
merely pretty.
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