The morning was full of sunlight and hope. Edna could see before her no

denial--only the promise of excessive joy. She lay in bed awake, with

bright eyes full of speculation. "He loves you, poor fool." If she could

but get that conviction firmly fixed in her mind, what mattered about

the rest? She felt she had been childish and unwise the night before in

giving herself over to despondency. She recapitulated the motives which

no doubt explained Robert's reserve. They were not insurmountable; they

would not hold if he really loved her; they could not hold against her

own passion, which he must come to realize in time. She pictured him

going to his business that morning. She even saw how he was dressed;

how he walked down one street, and turned the corner of another; saw him

bending over his desk, talking to people who entered the office, going

to his lunch, and perhaps watching for her on the street. He would come

to her in the afternoon or evening, sit and roll his cigarette, talk a

little, and go away as he had done the night before. But how delicious

it would be to have him there with her! She would have no regrets, nor

seek to penetrate his reserve if he still chose to wear it.

Edna ate her breakfast only half dressed. The maid brought her a

delicious printed scrawl from Raoul, expressing his love, asking her to

send him some bonbons, and telling her they had found that morning ten

tiny white pigs all lying in a row beside Lidie's big white pig.

A letter also came from her husband, saying he hoped to be back early

in March, and then they would get ready for that journey abroad which

he had promised her so long, which he felt now fully able to afford;

he felt able to travel as people should, without any thought of small

economies--thanks to his recent speculations in Wall Street.

Much to her surprise she received a note from Arobin, written at

midnight from the club. It was to say good morning to her, to hope she

had slept well, to assure her of his devotion, which he trusted she in

some faintest manner returned.

All these letters were pleasing to her. She answered the children in a

cheerful frame of mind, promising them bonbons, and congratulating them

upon their happy find of the little pigs.

She answered her husband with friendly evasiveness,--not with any fixed

design to mislead him, only because all sense of reality had gone out

of her life; she had abandoned herself to Fate, and awaited the

consequences with indifference.




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