her as such, away would go
seriousness, life being short, and youth but a small part of it, and
back she would go to the Merry-go-round, and once more, at twice the
pace, with twice the carelessness, the joy-ride would continue. It was
all up to Martin, little as he knew it.

And where was Martin?

There was no letter, no message, no sign as day followed day. Without
allowing herself to send out an S. O. S. to him, which she well knew
that she had the power to do, she waited, as one waits at crossroads,
to go either one way or the other. Although tempted many times to tap
the invisible wire which stretched between them, and to put an end to a
state of uncertainty which was indescribably irksome to her impulsive
and imperative nature, she held her hand. Pride steeled her, and vanity
gave her temporary patience. She even went so far as to think of him
under another name so that no influence of hers might bring him back.
She wanted him to return naturally, on his own account, because he was
unable to keep away. She wanted him, wherever he was and whatever he
was doing, to want her, not to come in cold blood from a sense of duty,
in the spirit of martyrdom. She wanted him, for her pride's sake, to be
again the old eager Marty, the burning-eyed, inarticulate Marty, who
had brought her to his house and laid it at her feet with all that was
his. In no other way was she prepared to cross what she thought of as
the bridge.

And so, seeing only her mother and George Harley, she waited, saying to
herself confidently "If he doesn't come to-day, he will come to-morrow.
I told him that I was a kid, and he understood. I've hurt him awfully,
but he loves me. He will come to-morrow."

But to-morrow came and where was Martin?

It was a curious time for this girl-woman to go through alone, hiding
her crisis from her mother behind smiling eyes, disguising her anxiety
under a cloak of high spirits, herself hurt but realizing that she had
committed a hurt. It made her feel like an aeroplane voluntarily landed
in perfect condition at the start of a race, waiting for the pilot to
get aboard. That he would return at any moment and take her up again
she never doubted. Why should she? She knew Martin. His eyes won
confidence, and there was a heart of gold behind his smile. She didn't
believe that she could have lost him so soon. He would come back
because he loved her. Hadn't he agreed that she was a kid? And when he
did come back she woul