retense? She felt humiliated in the idea of waiting for
him if the business were not a pretense.

How insensible men are! What a mere subordinate thing to them in life is
the love of a woman! Yes, evidently business was more important to him
than anything else. He must know that she was waiting; and she blushed
to herself at the very possibility that he should think such a thing.
She was not waiting. It was lunch-time. She excused herself. In the next
moment she was angry that she had not gone down as usual. It was time
for him to come. He would certainly come immediately after lunch. She
would not see him. She hoped never to see him. She rose in haste, put
on her hat, put it on carefully, turning and returning before the glass,
selected fresh gloves, and ran down-stairs.

"I'm going, auntie, for a walk to town."

The walk was a long one. She came back tired. It was late in the
afternoon. Her aunt was quietly reading. She needed to ask her nothing:
Mr. Henderson had not been there. Why had he written to her?

"Oh, the Fairchilds want us to come over to dinner," said Miss Forsythe,
without looking up.

"I hope you will go, auntie. I sha'n't mind being alone."

"Why? It's perfectly informal. Mr. Henderson happens to be there."

"I'm too stupid. But you must go. Mr. Henderson, in New York, expressed
the greatest desire to make your acquaintance."

Miss Forsythe smiled. "I suppose he has come up on purpose. But, dear,
you must go to chaperon me. It would hardly be civil not to go, when
you knew Mr. Henderson in New York, and the Fairchilds want to make it
agreeable for him."

"Why, auntie, it is just a business visit. I'm too tired to make the
effort. It must be this spring weather."

Perhaps it was. It is so unfortunate that the spring, which begets so
many desires, brings the languor that defeats their execution. But there
is a limit to the responsibility even of spring for a woman's moods.
Just as Margaret spoke she saw, through the open window, Henderson
coming across the lawn, walking briskly, but evidently not inattentive
to the charm of the landscape. It was his springy step, his athletic
figure, and, as he came nearer, the joyous anticipation in his face. And
it was so sudden, so unexpected--the vision so long looked for! There
was no time for flight, had she wanted to avoid him; he was on the
piazza; he was at the open door. Her hand went quickly to her heart
to still the rapid flutter, which might be fr