At four, she had her tea alone. No sound came from up-stairs, and Alden neither returned to luncheon nor sent word. When he came in, a little past six, he was tired and muddy, his face was strained and white, and, vouchsafing only the briefest answers to his mother's solicitude, went straight to his room.

Exactly upon the stroke of seven, both appeared, Alden in evening clothes as usual, and Edith in her black gown, above which her face was deathly white by contrast, in spite of the spangles. She wore no ornaments, not even the string of pearls about her bare throat.

"You look as though you were in mourning, my dear," said Madame. "Let me get you a red rose."

Things to Be Said

She started toward the veranda, but, with a little cry, Edith caught her and held her back. "No," she said, in a strange tone, "roses are--not for me!"

The dinner-gong chimed in with the answer, and the three went out together. Neither Alden nor Edith made more than a pretence of eating. Edith held her head high and avoided even his eyes, though more than once Madame saw the intensity of his appeal.

Afterward he took his paper, Madame her fancy work, and Edith, attempting to play solitaire, hopelessly fumbled her cards. Madame made a valiant effort to carry on a conversation alone, but at length the monologue wearied her, and she slipped quietly out of the room.

Edith turned, with a start, and hurriedly rose to follow her. Alden intercepted her. "No," he said, quietly. "There are things to be said between you and me."

"I thought," Edith murmured, as she sank into the chair he offered her, "that everything was said last night."

"Everything? Perhaps, but not for the last time."

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She leaned forward, into the light, put her elbows upon the table, and rested her head upon her clasped hands, as though to shade her eyes. "Well?" she said, wearily.

"Look at me!"

Vows and the Law

Her hands trembled, but she did not move. He leaned across the table, unclasped her hands gently, and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

"Darling! My darling! Have I made you unhappy?"

"No," she faltered. "How could you?"

He came to her, sat down on the arm of her chair, slipped his arm around her, and held her close against his shoulder. "Listen," he said. "You belong to me, don't you?"




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