She was studying his face to make up for the time she had not seen him.

She was, every time she saw him, making the picture of him in her imagination (incomparably superior, impossible in reality) fit with him as he really was.

"You met him?" she asked, when they had sat down at the table in the lamplight.

" You're punished, you see, for being late.

" "Yes; but how was it? Wasn't he to be at the council?" "He had been and come back, and was going out somewhere again.