Mary E. Wilkins Freeman

“ Clara had always a mild wonder if a cleverer woman than she might not have known exactly what had happened, what did happen. For the climax of the happening came very soon. And it came in an absurd sort of fashion.
Selma had been busy in her own room all the afternoon. Clara had not seen her since luncheon. Finally she dressed in one of the costumes which had been placed at her disposal—a pretty black net trimmed with jet—and went down-stairs to the library. After trying a book which did not especially interest her, she settled herself comfortably in a long lounging-chair beside a window. ”

“ She kept on her own dress, which was a good one, for her solitary dinner. Jane waited on her, as at luncheon, and she made no attempt at satisfying any wonder or curiosity which she might have felt. Jane at times cast an apprehensive glance at her. Clara felt the glance, but never met it.
After dinner she sat in the library and read the evening paper. Then she found a book which interested her, although she felt nervous and uneasy, and from time to time thought of her own humble nest at Noble's. The hours passed. ”

“ After Clara had gone down-stairs she hung up the visitor's street gown, and considered within herself how Miss Selma was too good to live, almost. How many women in the world would despoil themselves of their fine feathers to deck another poor feminine fowl who lacked them? However, Jane triumphed in the knowledge that not all the fine feathers could make another such lady-bird as her own mistress. ”

“ Clara Woods told Selma Windsor about the scarlet fever at Noble's, and how she was as one ship-wrecked without the necessities of life, or compelled to return to indefinite isolation of quarantine.
Selma disposed of the situation pleasantly and gracefully, and finally. “You will, of course, return with me to Laurelville this afternoon,” she said. “I can supply you with everything you need. I shall be glad to have you with me until the quarantine is raised.” ”

“ Selma laughed softly. “We are both encountering the very delightfully unexpected,” she replied.
“But when I think of coming entirely without baggage!”
“My clothes will fit you perfectly,” said Selma. “I have a new black chiffon which I have never worn, which you can wear at dinner to-night.”
“You dress for dinner?” asked Clara with an accession of childish pleasure.
“Sometimes. When I am entirely alone I make no change,” said Selma, “but to-night I am entertaining—a very unusual thing for me—two guests, my lawyer and his cousin. ”

“ I have plenty of fight in me for everything, but a fellow has to choose his own battle-field sometimes. I am ashamed of myself, to tell you the truth, Miss Windsor. Your niece is wonderful, but I never thought any girl living could settle me as soon as this. She is wonderful, though.”
Clara saw in the picture the young man gazing intently at Selma Windsor. “You must have looked much like her when you were a girl,” he said. ”

“ It did not seem to Clara Woods that this could last long. It seemed to her entirely too good to be true.
It was not a great while before her perturbation of soul began. It was, in fact, that very noon. Selma had told her that she was going to New York on the noon train, and had apologized for the necessity of leaving her guest to lunch alone. Clara was in her room about fifteen minutes before train-time, when she heard the whir of Selma's car in the drive. She saw a figure step lightly into the car, and she gave a little gasp. ”

“ No need for us to trouble ourselves with flowers which demand taking up and gathering and replanting. It is always a perennial flower for me! I love a rose which has returned to its own garden-home year after year. There is faithfulness and true love and unconquerable youth about a flower like that!”
Clara stared at her. “I suppose so,” she assented rather vaguely. Selma puzzled her in more ways than one. However, a perfectly pleasant little conversation ensued. Selma asked about some old school friends of whom Clara had kept track through the years.
The solitary dinner passed off happily. ”

“ The car whirred, and Adam, smart in his chauffeur's costume, drove rapidly around the curve of the drive. In a second Clara saw the car in the road. Then it was out of sight. She wondered who that girl was. She looked at her watch and wondered how Selma could make her train, since she was so delayed by a visitor. Clara never doubted that the girl was a visitor whom Selma had sent home in her car. Selma must know some people in Laurelville, although she had heard her remark that she had made few acquaintances, and no friends, there. This girl must be one of the acquaintances. ”

“ The cousin, Ross Wheeler, from Kentucky, did not meet the expectations of either Selma or Clara. He was much the junior of his cousin, William B. Wheeler, who had charge of Selma's affairs. However, he had been recently made a partner in business by William B., and in spite of his almost boyish look and manner he was supposed to be taken quite seriously.
The dinner, which was perfect, passed off triumphantly. Even poor old Clara Woods, in her elegant black chiffon, shone in her own estimation. Years ago dinners like that had not been infrequent for her. ”

“ It was quite evident that Selma had not returned. Jane looked in at the library door and asked if she could do anything. Clara replied, in an almost apologetic voice, that she had come down for a book. Then she heard a car speeding up the drive.
Jane's face became almost agonized. Clara sped out of the library. It was years since her middle-aged feet had moved as swiftly as they did along the hall and up the stairs. She gained her own room, opened the door, turned to close it, and saw the face of the girl coming up-stairs. ”

“ She was not astute enough to realize that Selma had very few of her own ravages of time. Selma deceived people, though not intentionally. She had no desire to look older than she need. A woman who does that is almost monstrous. Selma simply considered that certain clothes were suitable for a woman of her age, and she wore them. ”

“ Wheeler is not. He is of our age. He has an invalid wife. I suppose his cousin is also middle-aged. I did not inquire.”
By some law of sequence not evident on the surface, Selma immediately began to talk about the costumes which they had seen that afternoon. “It is very strange how the fashions have turned to antebellum days,” said she. “How much at home the few survivors of the Civil War would have felt in that crowd of dummies dressed in flounces and fichus and full petticoats!”
“Yes; they even wore plaids,” agreed Clara. ”

“ The young man went on:
“You must know that I understand how very odd this may all seem to you. I have only seen her those few times. But from the very first minute she entered Cousin William's office that morning after we dined here—when he had telephoned you, and you had sent your niece to represent you because you were ill—from that very first minute it was all over with me. ”

“ She went down-stairs, and Selma provided her with some fancy-work, and the two visited serenely all the forenoon.
After luncheon they separated. Clara had a habit of lying down for an hour. This afternoon she fell asleep—the effect of her wakeful night. She started up about four o'clock. She had heard a motor in the drive. Against her own will she slipped down from the divan and peered out of a window. There was a great touring-car and a magnificent chauffeur, and Mr. ”