morning, the table set of antique Italian lace, the petit-point bag with the jeweled clasp, the half-dozen duplicate pairs of Colonial candlesticks.
"It's preposterous," Sally said to the doll, Sarah, on the chiffonier.
Yet if she did not marry Neale? She would be free again! A great sense of relief surged over her. She found herself laughing hysterically, as one might who, hopeless on a desert island, sights a sail. She would be saved! She would own herself once more! She who had been bought with emeralds and frozen jade!
In a dream she dressed for dinner. She went downstairs outwardly composed but inwardly in a tumult. The men came in from their hunting. Winslow was in excellent spirits. His bag was big. He handed it to Sampson and stopped for a moment in the library to talk to Sally.
"It is raining hard outside," he said. "If it keeps it up in the morning I'll run into town. Would you like to go with me?"
She shook her head. "I don't believe I'm equal to it."
He glanced at her sharply. "What's the matter? Aren't you well?"
She tried to laugh. "Too much excitement, perhaps."
"I think we shall both be glad when the wedding is over." He stood, looking down at her. "You can rest as much as you like in my big house."
He went away then, and Sally sat thinking of the things he had said. The big house loomed in her
