room, and she had not had a word
or a sign.

Children and nurses were on the beach, grouped in the warm shade. The
season was over, there were yellow leaves in the hedges, Norma's feet
rustled among the dropped glory of the old trees. The world seemed hot,
dry, lifeless before her.

"I wish I were dead!" she cried, passionately, for the first time in her
life.

CHAPTER XXI

Suddenly and smoothly they were all transported to town again, and the
vigour and sparkle of the autumn was exhilarating to Norma in spite of
herself. The Park was a glory of red and gold leaves; morning came late,
and the dew shone until ten o'clock; bright mists rose smoking into the
sunlight, and when Norma walked home from a luncheon, or from an hour of
furious squash or tennis at the club, the early winter dusk would be
closing softly in, the mists returning, and the lights of the long Mall
in the park blooming round and blue in the twilight.

She was with Mrs. Melrose this winter, an arrangement extremely welcome
to the old lady, who was lonely and liked the stir of young life in the
house. Alice had quite charmingly and naturally suggested the change,
and Norma's belongings had been moved away from the little white room
next to Miss Slater's.

One reason for it was that Alice had had two nurses all summer long, and
found the increased service a great advantage. Then Mama was all alone
and not so well as she had been; getting old, and reluctant to take even
the necessary exercise.

"And then you're too young to be shut up with stupid home-loving folk
like Chris and me," Alice had told Norma, lightly.

"Your stupidity is proverbial, Aunt Alice," Norma had laughed. She did
not care where she went any more. Chris had greeted her casually, upon
their meeting in October, and had studiously, if inconspicuously,
ignored her. But even to see him at all was so great a relief to her
over-charged heart that for weeks this was enough. She must meet him
occasionally, she heard his name every day, and she knew where he was
and what he was doing almost at every moment. She treasured every look,
every phrase of his, and she glowed and grew beautiful in the conviction
that, even though he was still mysteriously angry with her, he had that
old consciousness of her presence, too; he might hate her, but he could
not ignore her.

And then, in December, the whole matter reached a sudden crisis, and
Norma came to feel that she would have been glad