Heretofore she had been the envy of the entire set, and it wounded her deeply to fall from that pedestal to the level of ordinary people.

She was no longer the young wife, whose husband petted and humored her so much, but the wife whose husband was jealous and tyrannical, and even abusive, where language was concerned, and she could not rid herself of the suspicion that her lady friends knew more than they professed to know, and was heartily glad when they took their departure and left her again alone.
There was another knock at her door, and a servant handed in a card bearing Frank Van Buren's name.

He was in the office, the waiter said.
Should he show the gentleman up?
Ethie hesitated a moment, and then taking her pencil wrote upon the back of the card, "I am too busy to see you to-day." The servant left the room, and Ethelyn went back to where her clothes were scattered about and the great trunk was standing open.

She did not care to see Frank Van Buren now.

He was the direct cause of every sorrow she had known, and bitter feelings were swelling in her heart in place of the softer emotions she had once experienced toward him.