"Good evening, Miss Halley," he said, striving to speak genially--for
of all of his wife's friends he liked Margaret Halley the best. "Were
you expecting to find Rita at home?"

The girl's expression was vaguely troubled. She had the clear
complexion and bright eyes of perfect health, but to-night her eyes
seemed over-bright, whilst her face was slightly pale.

"Yes," she replied; "that is, I hoped she might be at home."

"I am afraid I cannot tell you when she is likely to return. But
please come in, and I will make inquiries."

"Oh, no, I would rather you did not trouble and I won't stay, thank
you nevertheless. I expect she will ring me up when she comes in."

"Is there any message I can give her?"

"Well"--she hesitated for an instant--"you might tell her, if you
would, that I only returned home at eight o'clock, so that I could not
come around any earlier." She glanced rapidly at Irvin, biting her
lip. "I wish I could have seen her," she added in a low voice.

"She wishes to see you particularly?"

"Yes. She left a note this afternoon." Again she glanced at him in a
troubled way. "Well, I suppose it cannot be helped," she added and
smilingly extended her hand. "Good night, Mr. Irvin. Don't bother to
come to the door."