Her eyes were frowning and distressed; her cheeks glowed.

Arthur Delaine, her old friend, had bade her a cold good night, and she knew well enough that--from him--she deserved it.

"Yet I gave him the whole morning," she pleaded with herself.

"I did my best.

But oh, why, why did I ever let him come!" And even in the comparative quiet of the car at rest, she could not sleep; so quickened were all her pulses, and so vivid the memories of the day..