ers in his mind.

"I don't wonder you have the bad taste, the crudity," she said, as soon
as he came into the room, looking at him more sternly than he would have
believed possible to her.

He saw that this was an allusion to his not having been to see her since
the period of her sister's visit to New York; he having conceived for
her, the evening of Mrs. Burrage's party, a sentiment of aversion which
put an end to such attentions. He didn't laugh, he was too worried and
preoccupied; but he replied, in a tone which apparently annoyed her as
much as any indecent mirth: "I thought it very possible you wouldn't see
me."

"Why shouldn't I see you, if I should take it into my head? Do you
suppose I care whether I see you or not?"

"I supposed you wanted to, from your letters."

"Then why did you think I would refuse?"

"Because that's the sort of thing women do."

"Women--women! You know much about them!"

"I am learning something every day."

"You haven't learned yet, apparently, to answer their letters. It's
rather a surprise to me that you don't pretend not to have received
mine."

Ransom could smile now; the opportunity to vent the exasperation that
had been consuming him almost restored his good humour. "What could I
say? You overwhelmed me. Besides, I did answer one of them."

"One of them? You speak as if I had written you a dozen!" Mrs. Luna
cried.

"I thought that was your contention--that you had done me the honour to
address me so many. They were crushing, and when a man's crushed, it's
all over."

"Yes, you look as if you were in very small pieces! I am glad that I
shall never see you again."

"I can see now why you received me--to tell me that," Ransom said.

"It is a kind of pleasure. I am going back to Europe."

"Really? for Newton's education?"

"Ah, I wonder you can have the face to speak of that--after the way you
deserted him!"

"Let us abandon the subject, then, and I will tell you what I want."

"I don't in the least care what you want," Mrs. Luna remarked. "And you
haven't even the grace to ask me where I am going--over there."

"What difference does that make to me--once you leave these shores?"

Mrs. Luna rose to her feet. "Ah, chivalry, chivalry!" she exclaimed. And
she walked away to the window--one of the windows from which Ransom had
first enjoyed, at Olive's solicitation, the view of the Back Bay. Mrs.
Luna looked forth at it with little of the air of a person who was s