Jennette Lee

“ Sargent and I are old friends," she said, taking the cup of tea he handed her. He returned to his hostess's side and Milly passed out of the focus of attention.
Her eyes followed the laughing group with friendly interest. They had given her the moment's courteous welcome and turned again to each other and their mutual affairs, oblivious to the gray presence that reached out and surrounded them, little guessing that they were living more vividly in its searching consciousness than they had ever lived in their own experience. ”

“ The words carried a little smile, and he recognized her meaning with a start.
He gave a quick glance from the knitting to her face—and then to the group near the table. A little low whistle broke from his lips—so low that it might have been only fancy that the lips shaped it—before they returned to the whimsical smile. . . . Alan Sargent was himself the proud possessor of a sweater—made of heavy wool, dark gray in color, and man's size. It had been presented to him on the day of its completion—the day he made his first visit to Milly's office—nearly a year ago. ”

“ If any memory of the girl who had once been the merriest of the party came to them, no sign of it touched the laughing group. Each one gave without stint—and if the giving urged itself a little beyond the note of spontaneous happiness—for the sake of the rest—perhaps no one but the quiet woman in the room beyond the open window noted or felt it.
The hostess glanced about her with contented, happy look. "Is every one served?" ”

“ He looked down at her quickly. "I won't pretend to say I am broken-hearted. I admire you more than any woman I've ever known. So much"—he laughed shortly—"that when you tell me it is not wise to marry you, I believe you!" ”

“ She looked at Milly with approval. To no one had the change in her mistress been more apparent than to Margaret; and Margaret was in a position to know who was responsible for the look of relieved and quiet happiness that was coming back to her face.
"I was just going up to Miss Annie—when I had finished," she explained. "But I can wait if you want something."
"No. I only wanted her to come to the sewing-room a minute or two before she goes to luncheon. Will you tell her? Only a minute." ”

“ He was used to being managed by Milly.
The older man had left the others as Sargent crossed to them, and was approaching the seamstress with a glance of kindly regard.
"You are always busy!" He motioned to the work in her hands.
"I have to be," she said with a little smile. "A woman's work is never done, you know." She was having a moment of quick satisfaction in the approach of this man. . . . She had almost fancied he resented her presence in the house—and surely in this friendly group. But nothing could have been kinder than the glance he bent on her ”