e of Fanny and her nephew was not exceptional. People no
longer knew their neighbours as a matter of course; one lived for years
next door to strangers--that sharpest of all the changes since the old
days--and a friend would lose sight of a friend for a year, and not know
it.

One May day George thought he had a glimpse of Lucy. He was not certain,
but he was sufficiently disturbed, in spite of his uncertainty. A
promotion in his work now frequently took him out of town for a week,
or longer, and it was upon his return from one of these absences that he
had the strange experience. He had walked home from the station, and as
he turned the corner which brought him in sight of the apartment house
entrance, though two blocks distant from it, he saw a charming little
figure come out, get into a shiny landaulet automobile, and drive away.
Even at that distance no one could have any doubt that the little figure
was charming; and the height, the quickness and decision of motion,
even the swift gesture of a white glove toward the chauffeur--all were
characteristic of Lucy. George was instantly subjected to a shock of
indefinable nature, yet definitely a shock: he did not know what he
felt--but he knew that he felt. Heat surged over him: probably he
would not have come face to face with her if the restoration of all the
ancient Amberson magnificence could have been his reward. He went on
slowly, his knees shaky.

But he found Fanny not at home; she had been out all afternoon; and
there was no record of any caller--and he began to wonder, then to doubt
if the small lady he had seen in the distance was Lucy. It might as well
have been, he said to himself--since any one who looked like her could
give him "a jolt like that!"

Lucy had not left a card. She never left one when she called on Fanny;
though she did not give her reasons a quite definite form in her own
mind. She came seldom; this was but the third time that year, and,
when she did come, George was not mentioned either by her hostess or by
herself--an oddity contrived between the two ladies without either of
them realizing how odd it was. For, naturally, while Fanny was with
Lucy, Fanny thought of George, and what time Lucy had George's
aunt before her eyes she could not well avoid the thought of him.
Consequently, both looked absent-minded as they talked, and each often
gave a wrong answer which the other consistently failed to notice.

At other times Lucy's thoughts o