THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
sure. She seemed rather a resolute young woman. Heavens! she had been after him like a hawk after a hare! Pearl and pomegranate and Persian peach! Was he fickle? Was that it? No. A fickle man could not have remained loyal for six years to the memory of a jilt. He determined to ask some questions later—cautious, roundabout questions. He was far off his course, with a paper compass and nothing to take the sun with. And still that tingle of exhilaration!
"And so that brought you back?" said Betty, returning the clipping.
"No; I only thought it brought me back. I honestly believe that I never really loved Clare at all. Else, why should I be glad to be back, assured that I can meet her without wabbling at the knees?" Armitage rolled the clipping into a ball and tossed it into the fire.
"She was here to tea this afternoon, Jim," said Betty, softly.
"She's back in town, then, with her millions?"
"Yes. She's different, though. I really think she cared for you. From a lovely girl she has become a beautiful woman."
25
