. Her first
meeting with Annie, after the day of Chris's disclosures, was an ordeal
at which he himself chanced to be a secretly thrilled onlooker. Norma
grew white, and her lips trembled; there was a strained look in her
blue, agonized eyes. But Annie's entire unconsciousness that the
situation was at all tense, and the presence of three or four total
outsiders, helped Norma to feel that this amazing and dramatic moment
was only one more in a life newly amazing and dramatic, and she escaped
unnoticed from the trial. The second time was much less trying, and
after that Norma showed no sign that she ever thought of the matter at
all.

Mrs. von Behrens took Norma to her Maine camp in July, and when the girl
joined the Chris Liggetts in August, it was for a season of hard tennis,
golf, polo, dancing, yachting, and swimming. Norma grew lean and tanned,
and improved so rapidly in manner and appearance that Alice felt,
concerning her, certain fears that she one day confided to her mother.

It was on an early September day, dry and airless, and they were on the
side porch of the Newport cottage.

"You see how pretty she's growing, Mama," Alice said. And then, in a
lower tone, with a quick cautious glance about: "Mama, doesn't she
often remind you of Annie?"

Mrs. Melrose, who had been contentedly rocking and drowsing in the heat,
paled with sudden terror and apprehension, and looked around her with
sick and uneasy eyes.

"Alice--my darling," she stammered.

"I know, Mama--I'm not going to talk about it, truly!" Alice assured
her, quickly. "I never even _think_ of it!" she added, earnestly.

"No--no--no, that's right!" her mother agreed, hurriedly. Her soft old
face, under the thin, crimped gray hair, was full of distress.

"Mama, there is no reason why it should worry you," Alice said,
distressed, too. "Don't think of it; I'm sorry I spoke! But sometimes,
even though she is so dark, Norma is so like Annie that it makes my
blood run cold. If Annie ever suspected that she is--well, her own
daughter----"

Mrs. Melrose's face was ashen, and she looked as if touched by the heat.

"No--no, dear!" she said, with a sort of terrified brevity. "You and
Chris were wrong there. I can't talk to you about it, Alice," she broke
off, pleadingly; "you mustn't ask me, dear. You said you wouldn't," she
pleaded, trembling.

Alice was stupefied. For a full minute she lay in her pillows, staring
blankly at her mother.

"_Isn't_----!