She did not dare trust herself to see Allison again, and yet she must.
She could not fail him now, when he needed her so much, nor could she
ask the others to see that they were not left alone. One day might be
gained for respite by the plea of a headache, which is woman's friend as
often as it is her enemy.

And, after that one day, what then? What other excuse could she make
that would not seem heartless and cold?

It was an old saying of Aunt Francesca's that "when you can't see
straight ahead, it's because you're about to turn a corner." She
tormented herself throughout the night with futile speculations that led
to nothing except the headache which she had planned to offer as an
excuse.

A brief note gave her the day to herself, and also brought flowers from
Allison, with a friendly note in his own hand. Doctor Jack was the
messenger and took occasion to offer his services in the conquest of the
headache, but Rose declined with thanks, sending down word that she
preferred to sleep it off.

Though breakfast might be a movable feast at Madame's, it was always
consistently late. It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning when the
telephone wakened Madame from a dreamless sleep. She listened until it
became annoying, but no one answered it. Finally she got up, rather
impatiently, and went to it herself, anticipating Rose by only a minute.

Tremulous with suspense, Rose waited, scarcely daring to breathe until
Madame turned with a cry of joy, the receiver falling from her nerveless