"I wish Brewster would not come so often," he said.She was sitting in her room, sewing. Of late she had become domesticated, and she was fading under it. He had seen it already, and he saw it more plainly than ever just now. She looked up and smiled. Her smile had always been one of her greatest charms, because it was rare and very sweet. "Jack," she greeted him, "what have you done with the bread knife you took with you, dear? I have been lost without it."But he went on, instructing her how it was not all of riding to stick on, and rather a question of saving and seat and the bit.