"Yes--yes."

By this time she was at the door, and there she turned with a remorseful
look in her eyes, as if she had been unkind and was sorry. "Even if you
don't send, I shall come back by and by, when I can, to see how you
are," she said. Then she was gone, and I nestled deeper into the sofa
cushions, with the feeling that my head was so heavy, it must weigh down
the pillows like a stone.

"She was afraid of missing Number 13 with Ivor," I said to myself.
"Well--she's welcome to it now. I don't think she'll enjoy it much--or
let him. Oh, I hope they'll quarrel. I don't think I'd mind anything, if
only I was sure they'd never be nearer to each other. I wish Di would
marry Lord Robert. Perhaps then Ivor would turn to me. Oh, my God, how I
hate her--and all beautiful girls, who spoil the lives of women like
me."

A shivering fit shook me from head to feet, as I guessed that the time
must be coming for Number 13. They were together, perhaps. What if, in
spite of all, Ivor should tell Di how he loved her, and they should be
engaged? At that thought, I tried to bring on a heart attack, and die;
for at least it would chill their happiness if, when Lady Mountstuart's
ball was over, I should be found lying white and dead, like Elaine on
her barge. I was holding my breath, with my hand pressed over my heart
to feel how it was beating, when the door opened suddenly, and I heard a
voice speaking.