, including a bath and a house gown.

"You go away somewhere, Bowles," she said, "and please, don't come near
me, and don't let anybody come anywhere in my distant vicinity, because I
am v-very unhappy, Bowles, and deserve to be--and I--I desire to be alone
with c-conscience."

"But, Miss Sybilla----"

"No, no, no! I don't even wish to hear your voice--or anybody's. I don't
wish to hear a single human sound of any description. I--_what_ is that
scraping noise in the library?"

"A man, Miss Sybilla----"

"A _man!_ W-what's his name?"

"I don't know, miss. He's a workman--a paper hanger."

"Oh!"

"Did you wish me to ask him to stop scraping, miss?"

Sybilla laughed: "No, thank you." And she continued, amused at herself
after her maid had withdrawn, strolling about the gymnasium, making
passes with her foil at ring, bar, and punching bag. Her anxiety, too,
was subsiding. The young have no very great capacity for continued
anxiety. Besides, the first healthy hint of incredulity was already
creeping in. And as she strolled about, swishing her foil, she mused
aloud at her ease:

"What an extraordinary and horrid machine!... _How_ can it do such
exceedingly common things? And what a perfectly unpleasant way to fall in
love--by machinery!... I had rather not know who I am some day to--to
like--very much.... It is far more interesting to meet a man by accident,
and never suspect you may ever come to care for him, than to buy a
ticket, walk over to a machine full of psychic waves and ring up some
strange man somewhere on earth."

With a shudder of disdain she dropped on to a lounge and took her face
between both hands.

She was like her sisters, tall, prettily built, and articulated, with the
same narrow feet and hands--always graceful when lounging, no matter what
position her slim limbs fell into.

And now, in her fencing skirts of black and her black stockings, she was
exceedingly ornamental, with the severe lines of the plastron accenting
the white throat and chin, and the scarlet heart blazing over her own
little heart--unvexed by such details as love and lovers. Yes, unvexed;
for she had about come to the conclusion that her father had frightened
her more than was necessary; that the instrument had not really done its
worst; in fact, that, although she had been very disobedient, she had had
a rather narrow escape; and nothing more serious than paternal
displeasure was likely to be visited upon her.

Which