ain, and to no purpose. Your strength is--_to sit still_!'" As
he stood looking down at her his kindly eyes blinked for a minute
longer, before he added, "Do you see the point?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes. It isn't very obscure. Otherwise expressed
it might be, When in doubt, do nothing."

"Exactly; do nothing--till the pillar of cloud begins to move."

Out of the old man's parable she extracted just one hint that she
considered useful. In the letter which she proceeded to write Rupert
Ashley as soon as she was alone, a letter that would meet him on his
arrival in New York, she gave a statement of such facts as had come to
her knowledge, but abstained from comments of her own, and from
suggestions. She had intended to make both. She had thought it at first
her duty to take the initiative in pointing out the gulf of difficulties
that had suddenly opened up between her lover and herself. It occurred
to her now that she might possibly discern the leading of the pillar of
cloud from self-betrayal on his part. She would note carefully his acts,
his words, the expressions of his face. She had little doubt of being
able to read in them some indication of her duty. This in itself was a
relief. It was like being able to learn a language instead of having to
invent one. Nevertheless, as she finished her letter she was impelled to
add:

"We have asked some three hundred people to the church for the 28th.
Many of them will not be in town, as the season is still so early; but I
think it wisest to withdraw all invitations without consulting you
further. This will leave us free to do as we think best after you
arrive. We can then talk over everything from the beginning."

With the hint thus conveyed she felt her letter to be discreetly worded.
By the time she had slipped down the driveway to the box at the gate and
posted it with her own hands her father had returned.

She had ordered tea in the little oval sitting-room they used when quite
alone, and told the maid to say she was not receiving if anybody called.
She knew her father would be tired, but she hoped that if they were
undisturbed he would talk to her of his affairs. There was so much in
them that was mysterious to her. Notwithstanding her partial recovery
from the shock of the morning, she still felt herself transported to a
world in which the needs were new to her, and the chain of cause and
effect had a bewildering inconsequence. For this reason it seemed to her
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