be off duty or Myrtle could not be present. She
thought Angela might like to have Suzanne read to her. At least the
offer sounded courteous and was made in good faith.

Suzanne did not come alone at first, but after a time, when Angela had
been ill four weeks and Eugene had stood the heat of the town apartment
nightly for the chance of seeing her, she did. Mrs. Dale suggested that
he should run down to her place over Saturday and Sunday. It was not
far. They were in close telephone communication. It would rest him.

Eugene, though Angela had suggested it a number of times before, had
refused to go to any seaside resort or hotel, even for Saturday and
Sunday, his statement being that he did not care to go alone at this
time. The truth was he was becoming so interested in Suzanne that he did
not care to go anywhere save somewhere that he might see her again.

Mrs. Dale's offer was welcome enough, but having dissembled so much he
had to dissemble more. Mrs. Dale insisted. Angela added her plea. Myrtle
thought he ought to go. He finally ordered the car to take him down one
Friday afternoon and leave him. Suzanne was out somewhere, but he sat on
the veranda and basked in the magnificent view it gave of the lower bay.
Kinroy and some young friend, together with two girls, were playing
tennis on one of the courts. Eugene went out to watch them, and
presently Suzanne returned, ruddy from a walk she had taken to a
neighbor's house. At the sight of her every nerve in Eugene's body
tingled--he felt a great exaltation, and it seemed as though she
responded in kind, for she was particularly gay and laughing.

"They have a four," she called to him, her white duck skirt blowing.
"Let's you and I get rackets and play single."

"I'm not very good, you know," he said.

"You couldn't be worse than I am," she replied. "I'm so bad Kinroy won't
let me play in any game with him. Ha, ha!"

"Such being the case----" Eugene said lightly, and followed her to get
the rackets.

They went to the second court, where they played practically unheeded.
Every hit was a signal for congratulation on the part of one or the
other, every miss for a burst of laughter or a jest. Eugene devoured
Suzanne with his eyes, and she looked at him continually, in wide-eyed
sweetness, scarcely knowing what she was doing. Her own hilarity on this
occasion was almost inexplicable to her. It seemed as though she was
possessed of some spirit of joy which she couldn't