e fresh warning or
word of instruction to bestow.

They were all very kind to her. She received many invitations to tea,
and smiled over her sudden popularity. But--it dawned upon her when, she
had been about three weeks in the station--no one but the Ralstons
seemed to think of asking her and her husband to dine. She thought but
little of the omission at first. Evening entertainments held but slight
attraction for her, but as time went on and Christmas festivities drew
near, she could not avoid noticing that practically every invitation she
received was worded in so strictly personal a fashion that there could
be no doubt that Everard was not included in it. Bernard was often asked
separately, but he generally refused on the score of the evening being
his best working time.

Also, after a while, she could not fail to notice that Tommy was no
longer at his ease in Everard's presence. The old careless _camaraderie_
between them was gone, and she missed it at first vaguely, later with
an uneasiness that she could not stifle. There was something in Tommy's
attitude towards his friend that hurt her. She knew by instinct that the
boy was not happy. She wondered at first if there could be some quarrel
between them, but decided in face of Everard's unvarying kindness to
Tommy that this could not be.

Another thing struck her as time went on. Everard always checked all
talk of his prospects. He was so repressive on the subject that she
could not possibly pursue it, and she came at last to conclude that his
hope of preferment had vanished like a mirage in the desert.

He was very good to her, but his absences continued in the old
unaccountable way, and her dread of Rustam Karin, which Bernard's
presence had in a measure allayed, revived again till at times it was
almost more than she could bear.

She did not talk of it any further to Bernard. She had told him all her
fears, and she knew he was on guard, knew instinctively that she could
count upon him though he never reverted to the matter. Somehow she could
not bring herself to speak to him of the strange avoidance of her
husband that was being practised by the rest of the station either. She
endured it dumbly, holding herself more and more aloof in consequence of
it as the days went by. Ever since the days of her own ostracism she had
placed a very light price upon social popularity. The love of such women
as Mary Ralston--and the love of little Tessa--were of infinitely