rs,
return upon her suddenly, and she became aware that she
could not, with self-respect, fight it any longer.

"If you thought that," she said gravely, "it was a curious
thing to think. But I believe I am indebted to you for
one of the pleasantest things the papers have been telling
me," she went on, with constraint. "It was very kind--much
too kind. Thank you very much."

Elfrida looked up, half frightened at the revulsion of
her tone. "But--but your book is delightful. I was no
more charmed than everybody must be. And it has made a
tremendous hit, hasn't it?"

"Thanks, I believe it is doing a fair amount of credit
to its publishers. They are very pushing people."

"How delicious it must feel!" Elfrida said. Her words
were more like those of their ordinary relation, but her
tone and manner had the aloofness of the merest
acquaintance. Janet felt a slow anger grow up in her. It
was intolerable, this dictation of their relation. Elfrida
desired a change--she should have it, but not at her
caprice. Janet's innate dominance rose up and asserted
a superior right to make the terms between them, and all
the hidden jar, the unacknowledged contempt, the irritation,
the hurt and the stress of the year that had passed rushed
in from banishment and gained possession of her. She took
just an appreciable instant to steady herself, and then
her gray eyes regarded Elfrida with a calm remoteness in
them which gave the other girl a quick impression of
having done more than she meant to do, gone too far to
return. Their glances met, and Elfrida's eyes, unquiet
and undecided, dropped before Janet's. Already she had
a vibrant regret.

"You enjoyed being out of town, of course," Janet said.
"It is always pleasant to leave London for a while, I
think."

There was a cool masterfulness in the tone of this that
arrested Elfrida's feeling of half-penitence, and armed
her instantly. Whatever desire she had felt to assert
and indulge her individuality at any expense, in her own
attitude there had been the consciousness of what they
owed one another. She had defied it, perhaps, but it had
been there. In this it was ignored; Janet had gone a step
further--her tone expressed the blankest indifference.
Elfrida drew herself up.

"Thanks, it was delightful. An escape from London always
is, as you say. Unfortunately, one is obliged to come
back."

Janet laughed lightly. "Oh, I don't know that I go so
far as that. I rather like coming