At the same time a breath of real sorrow for the days that had gone swept over him.

He remembered her in Philadelphia in her red cape as a school-girl--in his father's house--out horseback-riding, driving.

What a splendid, loving girl she had been--such a sweet fool of love.

Could she really have decided not to worry about him any more?
Could it be possible that she might find some one else who would be interested in her, and in whom she would take a keen interest?
It was an odd thought for him.
He watched her as she came into the dining-room later, arrayed in green silk of the shade of copper patina, her hair done in a high coil--and in spite of himself he could not help admiring her.

She looked very young in her soul, and yet moody--loving (for some one), eager, and defiant.