"Why, I see him every day at the tennis club," cried Maudie in
surprise.

The faintest of blushes tinged Mrs. Mortimer's cheek as she chid
herself for forgetting this obvious fact.

The situation now developed rapidly. The absurd thing happened:
Harry Sterling began to take a serious view of his attachment to
Mrs. Mortimer. The one thing more absurd, that she should take a
serious view of it, had not happened yet, and, indeed, would
never happen; so she told herself with a nervous little laugh.
Harry gave her no opportunity of saying so to him, for you cannot
reprove glances or discourage pressings of your hand in fashion
so blunt.

And he was very discreet: he never made her look foolish. In
public he treated her with just the degree of attention that
gained his mother's fond eulogium, and his father's approving
smile; while Mr. Mortimer, who went to London at nine o'clock
every morning and did not return till seven, was very seldom
bothered by finding the young fellow hanging about the house.
Certainly he came pretty frequently between the hours named, but
it was, as the children could have witnessed, to play with them.
And, through his comings and goings, Mrs. Mortimer moved with
pleasure, vexation, self-contempt, and eagerness.

One night she and her husband went to dine with the Sterlings.
After dinner Mr. Mortimer accepted his host's invitation to stay
for a smoke. He saw no difficulty in his wife walking home