oberts told her. She went to the window in the front of
the house commanding the street and scrutinized its length. She returned
and resumed her seat.

"Can I help you in any way, Elice?" asked Roberts, gently.

The girl shook her head.

"No," she said steadily. "No one can help me. I can't even help myself.
That's the curse of it. There's nothing to do but wait." The folded hands
changed position one above the other, and after a moment returned as
before. "Do you understand?" she queried without preface.

An instant Roberts hesitated, but an instant only.

"Yes, I think so. You intimated you were expecting some one to come."

"Something to happen," substituted the girl.

"It's all the same," evenly.

Silence followed for a space while they sat there so; breaking it, the
girl looked at the other directly.

"I have refused him definitely," she said, without consciousness of the
seeming ambiguity of the remark. "I did so last night."

"Yes," very low; and that was all.

The girl drew a long breath, like one preparing for the unknown.

"I could see no other way of finding out for sure. Like yourself, nothing
seemed to me so bad as uncertainty."

"Yes," once more; just "yes."

"He sat just where you are sitting now; and when I told him he laughed."
A second the brown eyes dropped, then in infinite pathos they returned to
the listener's face. "You know how he laughs when he's irresponsible. It
was horrible."

"I know," echoed Roberts. "I've heard it."

"And then he went away. I sent him away. I couldn't stand any more then.
It seemed to me I'd go mad if I tried."

Although the room was warm, the girl was shivering; rising, Roberts lit
the gas in the grate. But he said nothing, absolutely nothing.

Through wide-open eyes the girl watched him as he returned to his seat.
Involuntarily she threw out both arms in a gesture of impotency
absolute.

"That's all," she completed, "except that I told him to return--if he
felt he must. I've been expecting him every minute all day; anticipating
horrors. But I haven't heard a word."

It was the mystery at last, impersonate. Like a live presence it stood
there between these two human beings in the room, holding them apart, and
each in his separate place.

Not for a moment but for minutes this time they sat in silence. Neither
thought of speaking commonplaces now, nor again of things intimate. The
period for these was past; the present too compellingly vital. What