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Mrs. Holmes? Gerald Waring, perhaps for the first time in his life, had been serious, and Ann knew it. She hoped the Recording Angel would make allowances for the awkwardness of the situation, and overlook her lapse from strict veracity.

After dinner, Ann wondered how she could escape for a few moments down to the cottage. She must see Rodney again. Ever since she had parted with him, those words of his had been repeating themselves in her happy heart. “I love you.” She wanted to hear him say it again—wanted to tell him that all her love was his—that she asked no greater happiness than to be his wife. And now she realized how difficult it would be unless she were definitely engaged to Rodney Marsh—to absent herself from the homestead in order to visit him.

But this evening Fate seemed to be in a kind mood. It was quite easily and naturally arranged. Dick Holmes was going over to visit the patient. Ann asked if she might go too.

“I told him I’d make him some chicken broth. It’s ready. I could take it in a jug.”

“Be sure to bring my jug back,” said Vera.

Did she care two straws about the jug, or was this an indirect method of making certain that Ann was going with Holmes? That meant, of course, that Vera would be left to entertain Waring on the veranda homestead. Again Ann reproached herself for this suspicion. To be jealous of admiration openly expressed for another woman was characteristic of Vera; but to wish to be continually alone with a man