! He would not say it. He would
not come again. He must realize, as she was doing, the absurdity of
their acquaintance. He would laugh at the old woman who had painted
her cheeks that she might look a girl and had let him kiss her hand as
though granting a priceless favor. Annabel moaned faintly as she
writhed. Every one would laugh. Every one must have been laughing for
years over her silly pretenses.

She did not know how long a time had elapsed before heavy footsteps
creaked down the hall. She shuddered and her body stiffened. The
knock was twice repeated before she could utter an audible, "Come in."

Mrs. West pushed the door ajar and started violently as her eyes fell
on Annabel. As not infrequently happens with women who preserve an
unnaturally youthful appearance, under the stress of deep emotion,
Annabel had aged years in an hour. It was a moment before Mrs. West
could recover herself.

"I've made us a cup of tea, Mis' Sinclair, and set out a light lunch.
We'll both feel better for a bite."

Annabel shook her head. "I don't want--anything." It took an effort
to stifle a frenzied appeal to be left to herself.

This was far from Mrs. West's thoughts. She creaked into the little
room, her ample proportions making it seem more cramped and small than
ever, and patted Annabel's shoulder.

"Oh, come now, Mis' Sinclair, I know just how you feel."--Never was
boast vainer.--"But Diantha's going to come through this all right.
She's young and she's strong. The doctor says she's got everything in
her favor."

Annabel's answer was a vague uncomprehending stare. Then she began to
understand. Mrs. West supposed her consumed with anxiety for her
daughter's safety, whereas the possibility that Diantha might die had
hardly occurred to her. She found herself wondering if she were unlike
all other women, an abnormality in her selfishness. In the larger
matters Annabel had remained contemptuously indifferent to the opinion
of her sex, though she would have found their criticism of her personal
appearance disquieting. But now she was conscious of an unaccustomed
sense of relief that Mrs. West could not read her thoughts.

"I don't want--anything," she repeated mechanically, and Thad's mother
departed with obvious reluctance. In five minutes she was back with a
cup of tea which Annabel swallowed in hopes of thus purchasing immunity
from further kindly attentions. And Mrs. West, bearing away the empty
te