faded into lengthening periods of three weeks, four weeks--the last
one was more than six weeks ago. "He can't leave his Alice!" she said
angrily to herself; "_I_ remember the time when he did not mind
leaving her." As for privacy, the great city, with its hurrying
indifferent crowds, was more private than this village of insistent
friendliness.

She leaned back in her chair and pressed her hands over her eyes; then
sat up quickly--she must not cry! Lloyd hated red eyes. But oh, she
was afraid!--afraid of what? She had no answer; as yet her fear was
without a name. She picked up her book, hurriedly; "I'll read," she
said to herself; "I won't think!" But for a long time she did not turn
a page.

However, by the time Mr. Pryor came back from the tea-party she was
outwardly tranquil, and looked up from her novel to welcome him and
laugh at his stories of his hostess. But he was instant to detect the
troubled background of her thoughts.

"You are lonely," he said, lounging on the sofa beside her; "when that
little boy comes you'll have something to amuse you;" he put a
caressing finger under her soft chin.

"I didn't have that little boy, but I had another," she said ruefully.

"Did your admirer call?"

She nodded.

"What!" he exclaimed, for her manner told him.