s.

"Right. We'll have the car--Fletcher will have to drive--and go for a
good long run into the country. We'll have lunch out and get back for
dinner. You'll like that?"

"Very much." She rose. "I'll go and get ready, shall I?"

"Yes. We'll start at once. By Jove, I shall enjoy a holiday myself!"

Throughout the day Owen surrounded Toni with an atmosphere of kindness
which he trusted might dispel the soreness he guessed she was
experiencing; but somehow he failed in his object.

Although the day was superb, a still, golden August day, when the summer
seemed to pause, arrested in its flight by the fulness of perfection to
which it had brought the land, neither Owen nor Toni was sorry to return
to Greenriver. As the car stopped in front of the door Toni cast a
rather wistful look at the jasmine-covered old house she had learned to
love; and for a moment she felt as though she saw herself as those other
women had seen her--the ignorant, frivolous, common little person whom
Owen had married out of pique.

Never in all her life had Toni felt so humble as on this evening, when
she entered the house which was her home. What had she in common with
the beautiful old hall, with the broad staircase leading to the spacious
gallery, lighted now by the Ten Little Ladies, whose light pierced the
gloom like so many kindly little stars?

The pictures, the bowls of roses, all the inanimate things she had grown
to look upon as friends--it seemed to her to-night that they looked
coldly to her, resenting her presence as an interloper; and in one
queer, horrible flash of insight Toni seemed to visualize the woman who
should have been the _chatelaine_ of Greenriver--a tall, dignified,
beautiful woman, with the bearing of a princess....

"What's the matter, dear?" Owen had seen her shiver. "Are you cold? Yet
it's a warm night."

"No, thank you, I'm not cold." She spoke gently. "I--I think I'm a
little tired."

She picked up a brown envelope from the table.

"Look, Owen, here's a telegram for you."

"So there is. Open it for me, will you, dear?"

She did so and handed him the flimsy paper. His eyes brightened as he
read.

"Good old Barry! He's wasted no time--Miss Loder will come down
to-morrow by the ten o'clock train. I must send the car."

He went out and spoke to the chauffeur, returning to say: "Will you
arrange for some lunch to be sent up every day, Toni? She can get off by
the four train, I daresay, and that will giv