ife of
luxurious irresponsibility. Would it not be natural for him,
who knew women well, to assume from her mistakenly candid
remarks, that she was like the rest of the women, both the
respectable and the free? Why should he believe in her, when
she did not altogether believe in herself but suspected
herself of a secret hankering after something more immediate,
more easy and more secure than the stage career? The longer
she thought of it the clearer it seemed to her to be that she
had once more fallen victim to too much hope, too much
optimism, too much and too ready belief in her
fellow-beings--she who had suffered so much from these
follies, and had tried so hard to school herself against them.

She fought this mood of depression--fought alone, for Spenser
did not notice and she would not annoy him. She slept little
that night; she felt that she could not hope for peace until
she had seen Brent again.

CHAPTER XVI

TOWARD half-past ten the next day, a few minutes after Rod
left for the theater, she was in the bathroom cleaning the
coffee machine. There came a knock at the door of the
sitting-room bedroom. Into such disorder had her mood of
depression worried her nerves that she dropped the coffee
machine into the washbowl and jumped as if she were seeing a
ghost. Several dire calamities took vague shape in her mind,
then the image of Freddie Palmer, smiling sweetly, cruelly.
She wavered only a moment, went to the door, and after a brief
hesitation that still further depressed her about herself she
opened it. The maid--a good-natured sloven who had become
devoted to Susan because she gave her liberal fees and made
her no extra work--was standing there, in an attitude of
suppressed excitement. Susan laughed, for this maid was a
born agitator, a person who is always trying to find a thrill
or to put a thrill into the most trivial event.

"What is it now, Annie?" Susan asked.

"Mr. Spenser--he's gone, hasn't he?"

"Yes--a quarter of an hour ago."

Annie drew a breath of deep relief. "I was sure he had went,"
said she, producing from under her apron a note. "I saw it
was in a gentleman's writing, so I didn't come up with it till
he was out of the way, though the boy brought it a little
after nine."

"Oh, bother!" exclaimed Susan, taking the note.

"Well, Mrs. Spenser, I've had my lesson," replied Annie,
apologetic but firm. "When I first came to New York, green as
the grass that grows a