now, will you not?" she asked, as I lifted my eyes from
this characteristic note.

I saw that her peace of mind was at stake. "Yes--I consent."

She gave a great sigh as at the laying down of a heavy burden. "Thank you,"
was all she said, but she put a world of meaning into the words. She took
the first homeward turning. We were nearly at the house before I found
words that would pave the way toward expressing my thoughts--my longings
and hopes.

"You say you have forgiven me," said I. "Then we can be--friends?"

She was silent, and I took her somber expression to mean that she feared I
was hiding some subtlety.

"I mean just what I say, Anita," I hastened to explain. "Friends--simply
friends." And my manner fitted my words.

She looked strangely at me. "You would be content with that?" she asked.

I answered what I thought would please her. "Let us make the best of our
bad bargain," said I. "You can trust me now, don't you think you can?"

She nodded without speaking; we were at the door, and the servants were
hastening out to receive us. Always the servants between us. Servants
indoors, servants outdoors; morning, noon and night, from waking to
sleeping, these servants to whom we are slaves. As those interrupting
servants sent us each a separate way, her to her maid, me to my valet, I
was depressed with the chill that the opportunity that has not been seen
leaves behind it as it departs.

"Well," said I to myself by way of consolation, as I was dressing for
dinner, "she is certainly softening toward you, and when she sees the new
house you will be still better friends."

* * * * *

But, when the great day came, I was not so sure. Alva went for a "private
view" with young Thornley; out of her enthusiasm she telephoned me from the
very midst of the surroundings she found "_so_ wonderful and _so_
beautiful"--thus she assured me, and her voice made it impossible to doubt.
And, the evening before the great day, I, going for a final look round,
could find no flaw serious enough to justify the sinking feeling that came
over me every time I thought of what Anita would think when she saw my
efforts to realize her dream. I set out for "home" half a dozen times at
least, that afternoon, before I pulled myself together, called myself an
ass, and, with a pause at Delmonico's for a drink, which I ordered and then
rejected, finally pushed myself in at the door. What, a state my nerves
were