They sat near the fire. Their talk was of little consequence to anyone but themselves, idle and light, the sort found when two people find delight in each other’s company. Walter Vail spoke about becoming an architect, but wondered if he had the discipline for it. Lilian told him that of course he did. He was also concerned with the financial insecurity of the profession. Lilian wondered again if it was New York — bringing up money and speaking of it in the open. Lilian could not remember the subject’s being discussed at their dinner table except by Arthur, who wondered aloud how much the Morses had spent on their dancing party or why Mr. Cunningham traveled second class when he could have bought the whole train. Then Arthur would be silenced by his father and the discussion would go no further.

It seemed therefore to Lilian that Walter Vail was confiding in her. At one moment she caught herself looking at his mouth as though hypnotized. She snapped out of it. She had been kissed by a boy before, but not by one like Walter Vail.

It was after midnight when Walter Vail snuck out the front door. They made plans to have lunch the next day, somewhere in town. He kissed her on the cheek, and it seemed to linger there after he’d gone.

Lilian spent the following morning in a dreamy haze. Then at twelve o’clock, the time appointed for their meeting, Walter Vail did not show.

At three o’clock Lilian received a note with the afternoon mail.

So sorry to have missed lunch. The parents arrived. We’re to spend a few days on the North Shore. I’ll see you when I get back.

Your accomplice,

Walter Vail

And in a weak pencil underneath, as an afterthought, Sorry.

Lilian felt the lovely construction which had gone up around her splinter and fall to the ground. She went purposefully up to her room to avoid meeting anyone and once there stood at her bureau looking at the little boxes on it, the silver one with her initials, the pillbox with the black cat on it. She moved the white-bristled hairbrush to a different place on the linen runner, she lifted the tortoiseshell top of her hairpin box. She could feel tears welling behind her eyes and was ashamed. Why had he taken so long to write? Perhaps his parents had surprised him. Whatever had happened, it was clear that this had not mattered so much to him as to her. So, she would not let it matter so much either.

In the following days she was in a foul mood. She reported to Dolly Cushing the latest events, and Dolly said that now was the time to remain aloof, if he were interested he would have to do the work. Since this tactic ran counter to Lilian’s natural feelings, she felt sure that it must be correct.

8 • He appears again