CHAPTER XXII

The one day in the year I heartily hate is the first day of January.
Yesterday was January first. Its usual effect is to make me feel as
the grate in my sitting-room looks when the fire is dead. Knowing
the day would get ahead of me if I did not get ahead of it, I decided
to give a party. Last night I gave it.

All through the busy rush of Christmas with its compelling demands I
have been trying not to think; trying to put from me memories that
come and go of Mrs. Cotter, of my disappointment in not hearing from
her where Etta Blake could be found, and my anxiety about little
Nora, now in the care of a woman I know well who lives just out of
town. The child will not be here next Christmas. Kitty is paying
for all her needs. She asked that I would let her the day before I
received Selwyn's note concerning Nora. I promised her first.

Mr. Crimm cannot find Etta Blake. She must have gone away.

In the past few weeks I have seen little of Selwyn. I have been a
bit more than busy with Christmas preparations, and his mortification
over Harrie's behavior since the latter's return from El Paso has
kept him away even from me. Madeleine Swink I have seen several
times, also Tom Cressy, but Mrs. Swink I have been spared, owing to
absence from home when she returned my call.

I have told Madeleine that she must not meet Tom here again until she