ff with her husband, and Oliver
and Jenny had gone riding together, Virginia went back again into the
room and put away the scattered clothes the girl had left. On the bed
was the little pillow, with the embroidered slip over a cover of pink
satin Virginia had made, and taking it from the bed she put it into one
of the boxes which had been left open until the last minute. As she did
so, it was as if a miraculous wand was waved over her memory, softening
Lucy's image until she appeared to her in all the angelic sweetness and
charm of her childhood. Her egoism, her selfishness, her lack of
consideration and of reverence, all those faults of an excessive
individualism embodied in the girl, vanished so completely that she even
forgot they had ever existed. Once again she felt in her breast the
burning rapture of young motherhood; once again she gathered her
first-born child--hers alone, hers out of the whole world of
children!--into her arms. A choking sensation rose in her throat, and,
dropping a handful of photographs which she had started to put away, she
hurried from the room, as though she were leaving something dead there
that she loved.

Downstairs, the caterers and the florists were in possession, carting
away glass and china, dismantling decorations, and ejecting palms as
summarily as though they had come uninvited. The servants were busy
sweeping floors and moving chairs and sofas back into place, and in the
kitchen the negro cook was placidly beginning preparations for supper.
For a time Virginia occupied herself returning the ornaments to the
drawing-room mantelpiece, and the illustrated gift books to the centre
table. When this was over she looked about her with the nervous
expectancy of a person who has been overwhelmed for months by a
multitude of exigent cares, and realized, with a start, that there was
nothing for her to do. To-morrow Oliver and Jenny were both going
away--he to New York to attend the rehearsals of his play, and she back
to finish her year at college--and Virginia would be left in an empty
house with all her pressing practical duties suddenly ended.

"You will have such a nice long rest now, mother dear," Lucy had said as
she clung to her before stepping into the car, and Virginia had agreed
unthinkingly that a rest for a little while would, perhaps, do her good.
Now, turning away from the centre table, where she had laid the last
useless volume in place, she walked slowly through the libr