I wanted you to have a good time."

Next day Mr. Keith gave himself the pleasure of calling promptly at Mrs.
Norman's. He remembered the time when he had waited a day or two before
calling on Miss Huntington and had found her gone, with its train of
misunderstandings. So he had no intention of repeating the error. In
Love as in War, Success attends Celerity.

Miss Huntington was not at home, the servant said in answer to Keith's
inquiries for the ladies; she had taken the children out to see Madam
Wentworth. But Mrs. Wentworth would see Mr. Keith.

Mrs. Wentworth was more than usually cordial. She was undoubtedly more
nervous than she used to be. She soon spoke of Norman, and for a moment
grew quite excited.

"I know what people say about me," she exclaimed. "I know they say I
ought to have borne everything and have gone on smiling and pretending I
was happy even when I had the proof that he was--was--that he no longer
cared for me, or for my--my happiness. But I could not--I was not
constituted so. And if I have refused to submit to it I had
good reason."

"Mrs. Wentworth," said Keith, "will you please tell me what you are
talking about?"

"You will hear about it soon enough," she said, with a bitter laugh.
"All you have to do is to call on Mrs. Nailor or Mrs. Any-one-else for
five minutes."

"If I hear what I understand you to believe, that Norman cares for some
one else, I shall not believe it."

She laughed bitterly.

"Oh, you and Norman always swore by each other. I guess that you are no
better than other men."

"We are, at least, better than some other men," said Keith, "and Norman
is better than most other men."

She simply shrugged her shoulders and drifted into a reverie. It was
evidently not a pleasant one.

Keith rose to go. And a half-hour later he quite casually called at old
Mrs. Wentworth's, where he found the children having a romp. Miss
Huntington looked as sweet as a rose, and Keith thought, or at least
hoped, she was pleased to see him.

Keith promptly availed himself of Mrs. Wentworth's permission, and was
soon calling every day or two at her house, and even on those days when
he did not call he found himself sauntering up the avenue or in the
Park, watching for the slim, straight, trim little figure he now knew so
well. He was not in love with Lois. He said this to himself quite
positively. He only admired her, and had a feeling of protection and
warm friendship for a young and fat