own language, the language of youthful arrogance and
ignorance, the language of mutual compliments and small personalities,
and Norma could not speak this tongue any more than she could join them
when they broke easily into French or German or Italian. She could ride,
because she was not afraid of the mild-mannered cobs that were used at
the riding school and in the park, but she knew little of correct
posture and proper handling of reins. She could swim, as Wolf had taught
her, in the old river years ago, but she knew nothing of the terms and
affectations of properly taught swimming. When she went to see Aunt
Kate, she was almost ashamed of the splendour of her clothing and the
utter luxury of the life she led, but with Leslie and her friends she
often felt herself what perhaps they thought her, an insignificant
little poor relation of the Melroses, who had appeared from nobody knew
where, and might return unchallenged at any moment to her original
obscurity.

This phase of the new life was disappointing, and Norma realized herself
that she spent a quite disproportionate amount of time in thinking about
it. Wasn't it enough, she would ask herself impatiently, to be one of
them at all, to see one's picture in the fashionable weeklies, as a
member of the family, at the Liggett-Melrose wedding; to have clothes
and motor-cars, and a bedroom that was like a picture; to know Newport
at first-hand; to have cruised for a week in the Craigies' yacht, and
have driven to Quebec and back in the Von Behrens' car? A year ago, she
reminded herself, it would have seemed Paradise to have had even a
week's freedom from the bookshop; now, she need never step into
Biretta's again!

But it was not enough, and Norma would come impatiently to the end of
her pondering with the same fretted sense of dissatisfaction. It was not
enough to be tremulously praised by old Aunt Marianna, to be joked by
Chris, greeted by Alice, his wife, with a friendly smile. Norma wanted
to belong to this life, to be admired and sought by Leslie, rather than
endured; to have the same easy familiarity with Duers, and Alexanders,
and Rutgers that Leslie had.

As was quite natural, she and Leslie had eyed each other, from the very
beginning, somewhat as rivals. But Leslie, even then preparing for her
marriage, had so obviously held all the advantages, that her vague
resentment and curiosity concerning the family's treatment of the
unknown newcomer were brief. If Aun