It's eight o'clock, and I shan't be ready for breakfast." Violet came slowly away from the door.

She did not look wholly satisfied, but she said no more; and Olga hastened back to her room with deadly misgiving at her heart.

She felt as if there were tragedy in the very air.

It seemed to be closing in upon her, a dread mist of unfathomable possibilities.
She dressed with nervous haste, and hurried downstairs, wondering a little that Max had not bestirred himself to ascertain the effect of his treatment.
She wondered still more when she found him calmly established behind the morning paper in an arm-chair in the dining-room.

He laid it aside at her entrance, and rose to greet her.
"Well ?" he said, with her hand in his.
She looked up to find his eyes piercingly upon her.