s release. Though
the nature of his feeling for her had not changed he was aware of a new
quality in their friendship. When he went back to his book again his
sense of power had lost its asperity, and the spectacle of life seemed
less like a witless dangling of limp dolls. He was well on in his second
chapter now.

This lightness of mood was still on him when, returning one afternoon to
Washington Square, full of projects for a long evening's work, he found
his mother awaiting him with a strange face. He followed her into the
drawing-room, and she explained that there had been a telephone message
she didn't understand--something perfectly crazy about Paul--of course
it was all a mistake...

Ralph's first thought was of an accident, and his heart contracted. "Did
Laura telephone?"

"No, no; not Laura. It seemed to be a message from Mrs. Spragg:
something about sending some one here to fetch him--a queer name like
Heeny--to fetch him to a steamer on Saturday. I was to be sure to have
his things packed...but of course it's a misunderstanding..." She gave
an uncertain laugh, and looked up at Ralph as though entreating him to
return the reassurance she had given him.

"Of course, of course," he echoed.

He made his mother repeat her statement; but the unforeseen always
flurried her, and she was confused and inaccurate. She didn't actually
know who had telephoned: the voice hadn't sounded like Mrs. Spragg's...
A woman's voice; yes--oh, not a lady's! And there was certainly
something about a steamer...but he knew how the telephone bewildered
her...and she was sure she was getting a little deaf. Hadn't he better
call up the Malibran? Of course it was all a mistake--but... well,
perhaps he HAD better go there himself...

As he reached the front door a letter clinked in the box, and he saw
his name on an ordinary looking business envelope. He turned the
door-handle, paused again, and stooped to take out the letter. It bore
the address of the firm of lawyers who had represented Undine in the
divorce proceedings and as he tore open the envelope Paul's name started
out at him.

Mrs. Marvell had followed him into the hall, and her cry broke the
silence. "Ralph--Ralph--is it anything she's done?"

"Nothing--it's nothing." He stared at her. "What's the day of the week?"

"Wednesday. Why, what--?" She suddenly seemed to understand. "She's not
going to take him away from us?"

Ralph dropped into a chair, crumpling the letter