succeeded. I don't believe that Romney has ever so much as THOUGHT
of any other woman in his whole life, and certainly Lucinda has never
thought of any other man. You will notice she still wears Romney's ring.
They're practically engaged still, of course. And Romney said once that
if Lucinda would just say one word, no matter what it was, even if it
were something insulting, he would speak, too, and beg her pardon
for his share in the quarrel--because then, you see, he would not be
breaking his word. He hasn't referred to the matter for years, but I
presume that he is of the same mind still. And they are just as much in
love with each other as they ever were. He's always hanging about where
she is--when other people are there, too, that is. He avoids her like a
plague when she is alone. That was why he was stuck out in the blue
room with us to-day. There doesn't seem to be a particle of resentment
between them. If Lucinda would only speak! But that Lucinda will not
do."

"Don't you think she will yet?" said Mrs. George.

Mrs. Frederick shook her crimped head sagely.

"Not now. The whole thing has hardened too long. Her pride will
never let her speak. We used to hope she would be tricked into it by
forgetfulness or accident--we used to lay traps for her--but all to no
effect. It is such a shame, too. They were made for each other. Do you
know, I get cross when I begin to thrash the whole silly affair over
like this. Doesn't it sound as if we were talking of the quarrel of two
school-children? Of late years we have learned that it does not do to
speak of Lucinda to Romney, even in the most commonplace way. He seems
to resent it."

"HE ought to speak," cried Mrs. George warmly. "Even if she were in the
wrong ten times over, he ought to overlook it and speak first."

"But he won't. And she won't. You never saw two such determined mortals.
They get it from their grandfather on the mother's side--old Absalom
Gordon. There is no such stubbornness on the Penhallow side. His
obstinacy was a proverb, my dear--actually a proverb. What ever he said,
he would stick to if the skies fell. He was a terrible old man to swear,
too," added Mrs. Frederick, dropping into irrelevant reminiscence. "He
spent a long while in a mining camp in his younger days and he never got
over it--the habit of swearing, I mean. It would have made your blood
run cold, my dear, to have heard him go on at times. And yet he was a
real good old man every o