knew Edith, and wondered how far she had lied to Anne, and what she had
done it for. He had a good mind to ask her; but he shrank from "dashing
her down the first day."

But Edith herself dashed everything down the first five minutes. There
was nothing that _she_ shrank from.

"I'm sorry for poor Anne," said she; "but it's nice to get you all to
myself again. Just for once. Only for once. I'm not jealous."

He smiled, and stroked her hair.

"I was jealous--oh, furiously jealous, just at first, for five minutes.
But I got over it. It was so undignified."

"It didn't show, dear."

"I didn't mean it to. It wouldn't have been pretty. And now, it's all
over and I like Anne. But I don't like her as much as you."

"You must like her more," he said gravely. "She'll need it--badly."

Edith looked at him. "How can she need it badly, when she has you?"

"You're a good woman, and I'm a mere mortal man. She's found that out
already, and she doesn't like it."

"Wallie, _dear_, what do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I say. She's found it out. She's found _me_ out.