The Breaking Point - Page 42/275

Elizabeth had gone about all day with a smile on her lips and a sort of

exaltation in her eyes. She had, girl fashion, gone over and over the

totally uneventful evening they had spent together, remembering small

speeches and gestures; what he had said and she had answered.

She had, for instance, mentioned Clare Rossiter, very casually. Oh

very, very casually. And he had said: "Clare Rossiter? Oh, yes, the tall

blonde girl, isn't she?"

She was very happy. He had not seemed to find her too young or

particularly immature. He had asked her opinion on quite important

things, and listened carefully when she replied. She felt, though, that

she knew about one-tenth as much as he did, and she determined to

read very seriously from that time on. Her mother, missing her that

afternoon, found her curled up in the library, beginning the first

volume of Gibbon's "Rome" with an air of determined concentration, and

wearing her best summer frock.

She did not intend to depend purely on Gibbon's "Rome," evidently.

"Are you expecting any one, Elizabeth?" she asked, with the frank

directness characteristic of mothers, and Elizabeth, fixing a date in

her mind with terrible firmness, looked up absently and said: "No one in particular."

At three o'clock, with a slight headache from concentration, she went

upstairs and put up her hair again; rather high this time to make her

feel taller. Of course, it was not likely he would come. He was very

busy. So many people depended on him. It must be wonderful to be like

that, to have people needing one, and looking out of the door and

saying: "I think I see him coming now."

Nevertheless when the postman rang her heart gave a small leap and then

stood quite still. When Annie slowly mounted the stairs she was already

on her feet, but it was only a card announcing: "Mrs. Sayre, Wednesday,

May fifteenth, luncheon at one-thirty."

However, at half past four the bell rang again, and a masculine voice

informed Annie, a moment later, that it would put its overcoat here,

because lately a dog had eaten a piece out of it and got most awful

indigestion.

The time it took Annie to get up the stairs again gave her a moment

so that she could breathe more naturally, and she went down very

deliberately and so dreadfully poised that at first he thought she was

not glad to see him.

"I came, you see," he said. "I intended to wait until to-morrow, but I

had a little time. But if you're doing anything--"