d her finger-tips
intently, as though to detect some change in them. When her father
closed the clock-door and turned away she started, as though she had
forgotten his presence. Her gaze upon him gave him an odd feeling of
wonder, which he took to be apologetic realization that he had spent a
longer time oblivious of her than he had meant. His explanation had a
little compunction in it. "I have a time with that pendulum always. I
can't seem to get it the right length!"

Lydia continued to look at him blankly for a moment. Then she drew a
long breath and took an aimless step away from the table. "Well, if that
isn't too queer for anything!" she exclaimed.

Judge Emery stared. "Why, no; it's quite common in pendulum clocks," he
told her.

CHAPTER IV

THE DAWN

The morning after her return from Europe, Lydia awoke with a start, as
though in answer to a call. The confusion of the last days had been such
that she had for a moment the not uncommon experience of an entire
blankness as to her whereabouts and identity. Realization of where and
who she was came back to her with much more than the usual neutral
relief at slipping into one's own personality as into the first
protection available against the vague horror of nihility. After an
instant's uncomfortable wandering in chaos, Lydia found herself with a
thrill of exultation. She was not negatively relieved that she was
somebody; she rejoiced to find herself Lydia Emery. She pounced on her
own personality with a positive joy which for a moment moved her to a
devout thanksgiving.

It all seemed, as she said to herself, too good to be true--certainly
more than she deserved. Among her unmerited blessings she quaintly
placed being herself, but this was the less naive in that she placed
among her blessings nearly everything of which she was conscious in her
world. Her world at this time was not a large one, and every element in
it seemed to her ideal. Her loving, indulgent father, who always had a
smile for her as he looked up over his newspaper at the table, and who,
though she knew he was too good to be wealthy, always managed somehow to
pay for dresses just a little prettier than other girls' clothes; her
devoted, idolizing mother, whose one thought was for her daughter's
pleasure; her rich big Brother George in Cleveland, whom she saw so
seldom, but whose handsome presents testified to an affection that was
to be numbered among the objects of her gratitude; go