he's going to
Sutton, you may take my word for it."

To Fanny's surprise Toni spoke coldly.

"I really can't imagine how you can be so silly, Fanny. How can it
affect Mr. Dowson where I am? I'm married now, and anyway he was never
anything to me."

"Still, he might be faithful to his first love," giggled Fanny.

"Fanny!" Toni faced her angrily. "You are simply odious when you talk
like that. Leonard Dowson's first love, indeed? If he says that about me
it is simply impertinence, and I don't care to hear you talk such
nonsense."

She got up indignantly as she spoke and moved to the door.

"If that is all you have got to say," she said, "I will go and talk to
Auntie." And she had the door open before Fanny found her tongue.

Then:

"Oh, I say, Toni, don't be horrid and stuck-up." Fanny's wail brought
Toni to a standstill. "If you _are_ Mr. Rose's wife, and a fine lady,
and in with a lot of smart people, you needn't go and be nasty to your
own cousin."

Something in her voice brought Toni quickly back into the room.

"Don't be silly, Fan!" She spoke impetuously. "Of course I am not being
stuck-up; you know I wouldn't be nasty to you for the world, but I do so
hate that sort of talk about men being fond of you and all that."

"Well, I didn't know you minded," said Fanny humbly, and Toni's heart
smote her.

"Oh, Fan, I don't mind--really--and I didn't mean to be cross. Now tell
me, how do you like my frock? It's the first time I've had it on."

And in the ensuing animated discussion on frocks and frills Fanny lost
that queer, uncomfortable sense of inferiority which had sprung to birth
beneath Toni's manner.

Somehow, after that Toni found the time drag. She was gentle and
friendly with her aunt, affectionate towards Lu, cordial with her uncle
and the rest; but she found herself longing for Owen's arrival as a
signal for her release.

The good-natured chatter, the well-meant inquisitiveness which found
vent in a ceaseless inquiry into the details of her new life, the noisy
jokes and laughter, the very persistence of the hospitality which filled
her cup and plate over and over again--they all jarred this afternoon;
and quite involuntarily Toni sighed for the peace and spaciousness, the
gracious calm and tranquillity of Greenriver.

When Owen at last arrived it was with an inward glee that Toni heard the
clock strike six; for now his visit must of necessity be short.

Possibly Owen saw her pallor, for he