It was childish--my outburst--and, ashamed of it, I started to go in,
then turned and again looked at Selwyn. Into his face had come
something I could not understand, something that involved our future
friendship, and, frightened, I leaned against the iron railing of the
little porch and gripped it with hands behind my back.

"Selwyn!" The words came unsteadily. "Have you nothing to say to
me, Selwyn? Don't you know that I know the girl with you to-night
was the girl who--who we brought in here last night? If you knew
her, why--"

Staring at me as if not understanding, Selwyn came closer. In his
eyes was puzzled questioning, but as they held mine they filled with
something of horror, and over his face, which had been white and
worn, spread deep and crimson flush. "You don't mean-- God in
heaven! Do you think the girl is anything to me?"

I did not answer, and, turning, he went down the steps and I into the
house.




CHAPTER X

For the past ten days I have been a very restless person. Mrs. Mundy
looks at me out of the corners of her kind and keen and cheery little
eyes when she does not think I am noticing, but she asks me nothing.
Mrs. Mundy is the wisest woman I know.