man to meet me at the train?" She turned from the disagreeable sight of
Kent and faced her husband. "Are all the men like that? And are all the
women like--Arline?"

Manley looked at her dumbly from the sofa. Would Val ever come to
understand the place, and the people, he was wondering.

She laughed suddenly. "I'm beginning to feel very sorry for Walt," she said
irrelevantly, pointing to the easel and the expressionless crayon portrait
staring out from the gilt frame. "He has to stay in this room always. And
I believe another two hours would drive me hopelessly insane." The word
caught her attention. "Hope!" she laughed ironically. "What imbecile ever
thought of hope in the same breath with this place? What they really ought
to do is paint that 'Abandon-hope' admonition across the whole front of the
depot!"

Manley, because he had lifted his head too suddenly and so sent white-hot
irons of pain clashing through his brain, turned sullen. "If you hate it as
bad as all that," he said, "why, there'll be a train for the East in about
two hours."

Val stiffened perceptibly, though the petulance in her face changed to
something wistful. "Do you mean--do you want me to go?" she asked very
calmly.

Manley pressed his fingers hard against his temples. "You know I don't. I
want you to stay and like the country, and be happy. But--the way you have
been talking makes it seem--a-ah!" He dropped his tortured head upon his
hands and did not trouble to finish what he had intended to say. Nervous
strain, lack of sleep, and a headache to begin with, were taking heavy toll