about these things, one feels.

Sometimes he wondered if that midnight interview with her at the gate
had ever really taken place--or had it been midsummer madness, too sweet
to exist even in memory? Certainly, in the Esther he saw now there was
nothing of the Esther of the stars. She wore her mask well. School had
closed for the holidays and the summer gaieties of Coombe were in full
swing. Esther boated, picnicked, played croquet and tennis. If there was
any change in her at all it showed only in a kind of feverish gaiety
which seemed to wear her strength. She was certainly thinner. Callandar
ventured to suggest to Mary that she was looking far from well. But Mary
laughed at the idea. She was very much annoyed with Esther. The girl
appeared to care nothing at all for the great event, refused to discuss
it, declined absolutely to put herself out in the slightest for the
entertainment of her mother's prospective husband, seemed to avoid him
in fact. Moreover, she openly expressed her intention of leaving home
immediately after the wedding. Mrs. Coombe was afraid people would talk.

Of them all, Aunt Amy was the only one who understood. How her poor,
unsound brain arrived at the knowledge we cannot say. Perhaps Esther was
more careless in her presence, dropping her mask almost as if alone, or
perhaps Aunt Amy's strange psychic insight took no note of masks, or
perhaps--account for it as you will, Aunt Amy knew! Esther and Dr.
Callandar loved each other, and Mary stood between. This latter fact was
not at all surprising to Aunt Amy. Was it not the special delight of the
mysterious "They" to bring misery to all Aunt Amy loved, and was not
Mary their accredited agent? The affair of the ruby ring had proved her
that, though no one else must guess it. What would come of it all, Aunt
Amy could not tell. Wring her hands as she might she could not see into
the future. Often she would mutter a little as she went about her work,
or stand still staring, straining into the dark. No one noted any
difference in her save Jane, for Jane was as yet happily free to
observe. The others, caught up in the whirl of their own destinies, saw
nothing save the problems in their own anxious hearts.

"Esther," said Jane one evening, "Aunt Amy is odder and odder and you
don't seem to care a bit."

Esther, who was preparing to go to a garden party, turned back, a little
startled.

"What do you mean, Jane?"

"I don't know. Can't you see that she