The crystal clock on the mahogany mantel had just struck ten thirty. The Wednesday night “movies” at the summer hotel would be finishing about now. Laurel’s mother, all dressed up in her pretty clothes, would be going upstairs to the horrid little bedroom, very soon, alone.

“Only what?” her father asked.

“Oh, nothing. I’ve been wondering what it would look like beside this one—that’s all.”

That wasn’t all. Her father felt sure it wasn’t all. But many of her thoughts he was unable to follow to their source. A faint suspicion disturbed him. Surely the allowance he sent to Laurel’s mother was sufficient. He could vouch that as long as a sure three hundred and fifty dollars was coming to Stella every month, she would live well wherever she was. She delighted in living well.

“Why should you be thinking about cheap rooms?” he asked.

“No reason,” Laurel replied shortly.

She was not going to tell him anyhow. That was clear. Useless to coax her.

Before he left her for the night, he said to her, “I really think you’d like it at Mrs. Morrison’s, Laurel.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Well, I want you to know Mrs. Morrison,” he replied. “I feel that when you are with me I must give you the best of everything I can, Laurel, and when Mrs. Morrison invited you stay with her I was very happy to give you five whole days of life in her home.”

“If it’s just for me, then, I think I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind.”

Stephen looked down at a book on the table and opened it. He was standing up all ready to go.

“I don’t mind,” he said, gazing at the printed page, but not seeing it, “only,” he went on, “I should feel sorry, I suppose, if you didn’t like some little present I’d picked out for you which I thought very nice. And so, too, I suppose I shall feel a little disappointed if you don’t wish to go to Mrs. Morrison’s.” He closed the book. “But of course I don’t really mind. You’re the one to be pleased.”

He did mind. He minded awfully. He always had minded when his voice was low and serious, like that.

“I’ll go,” said Laurel.

“Oh, you don’t have to, my dear.”

“I’d like to go,” she assured him brightly, which was true. Laurel would like to do anything to please her father.

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

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