g bed, lay panting with anger and fright. "_Now_
she'll know I'm hiding something from him!" she thought; "I've put
myself in her power by having a secret with her; just as I put myself in
Lily's power by asking her not to tell Maurice I had been there. Well,
Edith is in _my_ power!--because I've made her know he'll never care for
her. And she'll keep her word; she'll not tell him about the river."

The relief of this was so great that she could almost forget her
humiliation; she gave herself up to thinking what she herself must do
to keep Maurice in ignorance. "Auntie will be sure to say something. But
he knows how silly she is. She thought we'd quarreled, and that I had
tried ... I might tell Maurice that? And he'll make fun of her, and won't
believe anything she says! I might say that I went out to--to see our
river, and slipped and got wet, and that Auntie thought we'd quarreled,
and that I had ... had tried to ... to--And he'll say, 'What a joke!'
But maybe he'll say, 'Why did you go out to Medfield so late?' And I'll
say, 'Oh, well, I got delayed.' ... Yes, that's the thing to do."

So, around and around, her poor, frantic thoughts raced and trampled one
another. When Mrs. Newbolt interrupted them with a tray and some supper,
Eleanor, with eyes closed, motioned her away: "My head aches. I can't
eat anything. I'm going to try and get a little sleep."

By and by, through sheer fatigue, she did drowse, and when the wheels of
Maurice's cab grated against the curb, she was asleep.

Edith, upstairs in her own room, heard the front door close sharply. "I
_can't_ see him!" she said; "I mustn't see him." But she wanted to see
him; she wanted to say to him: "Maurice, you can make it all up to
Eleanor! You can make her happy. _Don't_ despair about it--we'll all
help you make it up to her!" She wanted to say: " Oh,Maurice, you _will_
conquer. I know you will!" If she could only see him and tell him these
things! "If I didn't love him, I could," she thought....

Maurice came hurrying into the parlor, with the anxious, "How is she?"
on his lips; and Mrs. Newbolt and Mrs. Houghton were full of
reassurances, and suggestions of food, which he negatived promptly.
"Tell me about Eleanor! What happened?"

"She's asleep," Mrs. Newbolt said. "You must have something to eat--"
She was in such a panic of uncertainty as to what must and must not be
said to Maurice that she clutched at supper as a perfectly safe topic.
"I--I--I'll go