put a stop to the whole thing," she said to herself, one
morning in March. "I shall not stay in New York until Easter. I shall
ask Ida to go with me to Europe, and we will travel quietly with a
maid and a courier." She permitted this idea to take possession of her
until she suddenly remembered that even Ida had not appeared to be as
fond of her society as she used to be. With a profusion of apologies
and regrets, she had refused several invitations to shop and drive,
and stay all night with her friend. Perhaps she would not go to
Europe. In such case, Rose resolved to travel with her maid only.

Absorbed in this new idea, she went out one day to attend to some
shopping necessary for her plan. It was a lovely afternoon, full of
sunshine, and a soft, fresh breeze. The windows were gay with spring
fashions and preparations for Easter, and Broadway was crowded with
well-dressed men and women, happy in the airs of spring, and in the
sense of their own beauty or elegance. When she came out of Tiffany's,
the temptation to join in this pleasant promenade was so great that
she sent her carriage forward to Vantine's, and resolved to walk the
intermediate distance. The sense of resurrection and restoration was
so uplifting, the cheerfulness, the smiles, the noise of traffic and
the murmur of humanity were altogether so restorative to her jaded
heart that Rose felt a thrill of genuine natural happiness. She
thought of the fresh sea and the queer, splendid old towns beyond it,
and she hoped Ida would be willing to start by the first possible
steamer.

To such thoughts she stepped brightly forward, her garments fluttering
in the wind, and a large bunch of daffodils in her hands. As she
approached Seventeenth Street, she felt a sudden impulse to answer an
unknown gaze; and she let her eyes wander among the advancing crowd.
In an instant they fell upon Ida Stirling and Mr. Duval. They were
walking together, and their air was that of lovers; and Rose felt that
they were talking about her. For a moment she was stunned; her soul
was really knocked down, and her body felt unable to lift it. The next
moment she stumbled on, with flaming cheeks, and ears so painfully
alert that they heard every tone of the mocking little laugh which
saluted her in the passing. Ida was looking into Duval's face, and
affected not to see Rose; but Duval stared insolently at her, without
a token of recognition. She had herself, in the momentary pause, made
a f