. And I take good care to be on hand to gather the crop. Model
Acts and Reform of Procedure! Have you forgotten you're talking to a
married man?"

On learning their determination to walk down-town, he said he'd go with
them part of the way. Would Rose go, too? But she thought not.

"Well, I can't pretend to think you need it," he admitted. Then, turning
to the Lakes: "You people must spend a lot of evenings with us like
this. You've done Rose a world of good. I haven't seen her look so well
in a month of Sundays."

CHAPTER IX

A DEFEAT

The gown that Rodney had spoken of apologetically to the Lakes as a
coronation robe, was put away; the maid was sent to bed. Rose, huddled
into a big quilted bath-robe, and in spite of the comfortable warmth of
the room, feeling cold clear in to the bones--cold and tremulous, and
sure that when she tried to talk her teeth would chatter--sat waiting
for Rodney to come back from seeing the Lakes part way home.

It was over an hour since they had gone, but she was in no hurry for his
return. She wanted time for getting things straight before he came--for
letting the welter subside and getting the two or three essentials clear
in her mind. She hadn't cried a tear.

The old Rose would have cried--the Rose of a month ago, before that
devastating, blinding scene with Portia, and what had happened since.
She even managed to smile a little satirically, now, over the way that
child would have taken it. Here it was their first anniversary of the
day--the great day in their two lives--their birthday, as well as his!
And he'd forgotten it! He had remained oblivious that morning, in spite
of all the little evocative references she had made. She hadn't let
herself be hurt about that--not much, anyway; had managed to smile
affectionately over his masculine obtuseness, as if it had meant no more
to her than it would have, say, to Frederica. She had impressed him
strongly, though--or tried to--with the idea that the evening was to be
kept clear just for their two selves. And then she had arranged a
feast--a homely little feast that was to culminate in a cake with a
hedge of little candles around the edge for his birthday, and a single
red one in the center, for theirs.

Well, and that was only part of it. She had planned, when the cake
should have come in, all lighted up, and the servants had gone away and
the other lights had been put out,--she had planned to tell him her
great news. Sh