"How did you know?" asked Alden, slowly.
"Oh, I just knew. You were looking at my dressing-table first, and you picked up the picture without thinking. Then, as soon as you knew who it was, you put it down, found the scarf, and came out."
"Do you love him?"
"No. That is, I don't think I do. But--oh," she added, with a sharp indrawing of her breath, "how I did love him!"
"And he--" Alden went on. "Does he love you?"
"I suppose so, in his way. As much as he is capable of caring for anything except himself, he cares for me."
She rose and walked restlessly along the veranda, the man following her with his eyes, until she reached the latticed end, where a climbing crimson rose, in full bloom, breathed the fragrance of some far Persian garden. Reaching up, she picked one, on a long, slender stem.
The Crimson Rose
Alden appeared beside her, with his knife in his hand. "Shall I take off the thorns for you?"
"No, I'm used to thorns. Besides, the wise ones are those who accept things as they are." She thrust the stem into her belt, found a pin from somewhere, and pinned the flower itself upon the creamy lace of her gown.
"It's just over your heart," he said. "Is your heart a rose too?"
"As far as thorns go, yes."
She leaned back against one of the white columns of the porch. She was facing the moonlight, but the lattice and the rose shaded her with fragrant dusk.
"Father and Mother planted this rose," Alden said, "the day they were married."
"How lovely," she answered, without emotion. "But to think that the rose has outlived one and probably will outlive the other!"
"Mother says she hopes it will. She wants to leave it here for me and my problematical children. The tribal sense runs rampant in Mother."
"When are you and Miss Starr going to be married?" asked Edith, idly.
Alden started. "How did you know?" he demanded, roughly, possessing himself of her hands. "Who told you--Mother, or--Miss Starr?"
Mutual Understanding
"Neither," replied Edith, coldly, releasing herself. "I--just knew. I beg your pardon," she added, hastily. "Of course it's none of my affair."
"But it is," he said, under his breath. Then, coming closer, he took her hands again. "Look here, Edith, there's something between you and me--do you know it?"