n her she had stirred, as if she were awaking from
a dream, or a memory, and stretched out her hand.

"Is it ever too late," she responded, "as long as there is any happiness
left in the world?"

She smiled as she answered him; but suddenly her smile faded and that
faint shadow passed again over her face. In the very moment when he had
bent toward her, there had drifted before her gaze the soft anxious eyes
of Alice Rokeby, and the look in them as they followed John Benham that
evening a week ago.

"Oh, my dear," said Benham softly. Then his voice broke and he drew back
hurriedly, for a figure had darkened the low window, and a minute
afterward the door opened and Patty Vetch entered the room.

"The latch was not fastened, so I came in," she began, and stopped as
her look fell on Benham. "I--I hope you don't mind," she added in
confusion.

CHAPTER X

PATTY AND CORINNA

Patty had come straight to Corinna after a conversation with Stephen.
She needed sympathy, and she had meant to be frank and confiding; but
when Benham left them alone in the lovely room, which made her feel as
if she had stepped into one of the stained glass windows in the old
church she attended, her courage failed, and she forgot all the
impulsive words she had learned by heart in the street.

"I am so glad," said Corinna sweetly. "I went to see you after luncheon
to-day, and I was very much disappointed not to find you at home."

"That was why I came," answered Patty. "Your card was there when I got
in, and I couldn't bear missing you."

"That was right, dear. It was what I hoped you would do."

Turning back to the fire, Corinna stooped and flung a fresh log on the
Florentine andirons. Then, without glancing at the girl, she sat down in
one of the deep chairs by the hearth, and motioned invitingly to a place
at her side. She was determined to win Patty's heart, and she wanted to
be near enough to reach out her hand when the right moment came. That
moment had not come yet, and she knew it, for she was wise from
experience. There was time enough, and she felt no impulse to hasten
developments. She was strongly attracted, and since her sympathy was
easily stirred, she wished, without any great desire, to help the girl
if she could. The only way, she realized, was to watch and hope, to play
the waiting game as far as this was possible to her active nature. For,
above all things, Corinna hated to wait; and this potent energy of soul,