manner
of imparting information, as though it were an incident of a
five-o'clock tea, but Lydia felt a pang of remorse for her usual
thoughtless attitude of exasperated hilarity over Miss Burgess'
peculiarities. She noticed that the kind, vacuous face was beginning to
look more than middle-aged, and that the scanty hair above it was
whitening rapidly.

"Why, bring your mother out here for the day, why don't you, any time!"
she said impulsively. "I can't have any social engagements, you know,
the way I am, and Paul's away a good deal of the time, and 'Stashie and
I can get you tea and eggs and toast, at least. I'd love to have her.
Now, any morning that threatens heat, just you telephone you're both
coming to spend the day."

She felt quite strange at the thought that she had never seen the
mother of this devoted, unselfish, affectionate, lifelong acquaintance.

But Miss Burgess, though moved almost to tears at Lydia's "kind
thoughtfulness," clung steadfastly to her standards. She had always
known that she must not presume on her "exceptional opportunities for
acquaintance with Endbury's social leaders," she told Lydia, nor take
advantage of any inadvertent kindness of theirs. Her mother would be the
first one to blame her if she did; her mother knew the world very well.
She went away, murmuring broken thanks and protestations of devotion.

Lydia looked after her, disappointed. She had been quite stirred by the
hope of giving some pleasure. There was little to break the long,
lonely, monotonous expectancy of her life. And yet nothing surprised
those who knew her better than her equable physical poise during this
time of trial and discomfort. Everyone had expected so high-strung a
creature to be "half-wild with nerves." But Lydia, although she
continued to say occasional disconcerting things, seemed on the whole to
be gaining maturity and firmness of purpose. Paul was away a great deal
that summer and she had many long, solitary hours to pass--a singular
contrast to the feverish hurry of the winter "season." Her old habit of
involuntary questioning scrutiny came back and it is possible that her
motto of "action at all costs" was passed under a closer mental review
than during the winter; but though she went frequently to see her
godfather and Mrs. Sandworth, she did not break her silence on whatever
thoughts were occupying her mind, except in one brief, questioning
explosion. This was on the occasion of her last visit