and it was not long before her best girl friends came to her with those hopeful kisses and smiles which are designed to provoke confidence.
But Marcia had made no actual response to their advances, because those perplexing factors had commenced to present themselves to her in John's letters before the gossips had gotten very far into her affairs, but she let it be known that there might be something to say—before very long. She knew that they were watching her at this house party as they had never had the opportunity of watching her before; they listened to her every word, remembered her every action, for the snaring of the heir to the Taylor millions was a matter of no small importance. To heighten this curiosity John had not appeared, though he was only forty miles away. At heart Marcia was worried and petulant and suspicious from the first day of her arrival, but she sparred alertly before the others, letting them know little, for her pride was as great—as some of her other qualities.
But her hope that he would spend this first Sunday with her had been too high for hiding. She had let them become aware that she expected him and when he did not come she knew that they detected her dismay, try as she did to cover it. After dinner she went to her room, begging a headache, and was aware that lifted eyebrows and a smirk or so and perhaps a cautious I-thought-as-much followed her. She opened a bag, took out John's letters and read them slowly, carefully, weighing words, reading again and again his references to the Foraker pine and to the girl who owned it. He was very enthusiastic over the forest—but of Helen he said little—much too little.
