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Early June came to Windover joyously that year. May had been a gentle month, warmer than its wont, and the season was in advance of its schedule.
Mrs. Carruth, found paling a little, and thought to be less strong since her accident abroad, had been ordered to the seaside some three or four weeks before the usual flitting of the family. Helen accompanied her; the Professor ran down as often as he might, till Anniversary Week should set him free to move his ponderously increasing manuscript on the "Errors in the Revised Version" from Cesarea to the clam study. The long lace curtains blew in and out of the windows of the Flying Jib; Helen's dory glittered in two coats of fresh pale-yellow paint upon the float; and Helen, in pretty summer gowns of corn color, or violet, or white, listened on the piazza for the foot-ring of her lover. She was lovely that spring, with the loveliness of youth and joy. Bayard watched her through a mist of that wonder and that worship which mark the highest altitudes of energy in a man's life.