"He probably has his own peculiar way of caring for a woman," she was now reflecting, "just as he has his own peculiar way in every other respect." Arthur came, and their mother; and not until long after supper, when her father had been got to bed, did she have the chance to continue the conversation.

As soon as she appeared on the veranda, where Dory and Arthur were smoking, Arthur sauntered away.

She was alone with Dory; but she felt that she had nothing to say to him.

The surge of fury against Ross and Theresa had subsided; also, now that she had seen Theodore Hargrave again, she realized that he was not the sort of man one tries to use for the purpose she had on impulse formed, nor she the sort of woman who, in the deliberateness of the second thought, carries into effect an impulse to such a purpose.
When they had sat there in the moonlight several minutes in silence, she said: "I find I haven't anything especial to say to you, after all." A wait, then from him: "I'm sorry.

I had hoped--" He halted.
"Hoped--what ?" "Hoped it was off with you and Whitney." "Has some one been saying it was ?" she asked sharply.
"No.