offended Miss Thorne, and racked her brain vainly. She had said
nothing that she would not have said to Miss Hathaway, and had
intended nothing but friendliness. As for her being in the
dining-room--why, very often, when Miss Hathaway had company, she
was called in to give her version of some bit of village gossip.
Miss Hathaway scolded her when she was displeased, but never
before had any one spoken to Hepsey in a measured, icy tone that
was at once lady-like and commanding. Tears came into her eyes,
for she was sensitive, after all.

A step sounded overhead, and Hepsey regained her self-possession.
She had heard nearly all of the conversation and could have told
Miss Thorne a great deal about the young man. For instance, he
had not said that he was boarding at Joe's, across the road from
Miss Ainslie's, and that he intended to stay all Summer. She
could have told her of an uncertain temper, peculiar tastes, and
of a silver shaving-cup which Joe had promised her a glimpse of
before the visitor went back to the city; but she decided to let
Miss Thorne go on in her blind ignorance.

Ruth, meanwhile, was meditating, with an aggravated restlessness.
The momentary glimpse of the outer world had stung her into a
sense of her isolation, which she realised even more keenly than
before. It was because of this, she told herself, that she hoped
Winfield liked her, for it was not her wont to care about such
trifles. He thought of her, idly, as a nice girl, who was rather
pretty when she was interested in anything; but, with a woman's
insight, influenced insensibly by Hepsey's comment, Ruth scented
possibilities.