ir home life had been invaded by the man
who was never absent from her thoughts. In a sense, she was glad of
the invasion. It proved to her, more surely than any words could
have done, that she had kept her secret well and beyond suspicion.
Had her mother gained any inkling of the true state of the case,
Harvard Weldon would never have been brought away from the room at
the Grand. For so much surety, Ethel Dent could rejoice with a
thankful heart. Nevertheless, as the days passed by, Weldon's
presence in the house increased the strain tenfold. Night after
night, Ethel had crept noiselessly from her room across the hallway
and crouched outside his door, listening for any sounds from within
which might tell her that all was well with the man whom she would
not see. Day after day, she forced her life to run along in its
usual grooves, going out of the house with a laugh on her lips and,
in her heart, the sickening dread of the tidings which might greet
her upon her return. Again and again, as she passed the door left
open during the nurse's temporary absence from the room, she put
forth all her strength to keep herself from stealing in, to look
just once on the unconscious face of the man who had made her
whole life. But she held herself in check, and never once yielded to
the temptation. Well she might hold herself in check. She realized
only too keenly that, once face to face with Weldon, she would have
to do over again all the weary work of those weeks of self-repression.

Then the stupor had given place to delirium; and, even in her room
and behind her closed door, she could hear the low, muttering voice.
After that, she crouched no more outside his room. It would have
been impossible for her to say just what it was that she dreaded to
hear. Nevertheless, she closed her ears as resolutely as she closed
her door; but, when she met the nurse on the stairs, she hurried
onward with her face turned away and her cheeks ablaze.

And then in its turn the delirium had ended. From that time forward,
Ethel went out more constantly than ever. When she was in the house,
she started and grew red or pale at every unexpected step. Now, at
any hour, there might come a summons for her to go to the invalid's
room. She went over in detail every possible reply she could make to
every possible word which Weldon might say. She held herself ready
for any emergency. But the days dragged away, and no emergency had
come.

And then, as it had