Mason's face did not change, but he failed to look at his friend. He said quietly:
"Isabel wouldn't read it; the girl might possibly find something in it of value. Good night; you've listened like a martyr."
"Don't fail to write that out while it's fresh in your mind. Good night," said Sanborn.
His last glance as he closed the door fell upon a lonely figure lying in a low chair before the fire, and he pitied him. Mason seemed "the great irresolute" which Isabel believed him to be; helpless to do, patient to suffer.
CHAPTER XXII
SOCIAL QUESTIONS
The social world seemed about to open to the coulé girl. At Mrs. Harvey's she called, and behold! her house was but one street removed from the Lake Shore Drive, on which she had stood that September day. It was a home of comfort rather than of wealth, not at all ostentatious, and yet its elegance troubled Rose not a little.
She knew values by instinct, and she knew there was nothing shoddy and nothing carelessly purchased in the room. The Harveys were envied by some of their wealthier neighbors for the harmoniousness of their house. They contrived to make their furniture distinguish itself from a down-town stock—which requires taste in selection, and arrangement as well.
Rose heard voices above, and soon Mrs. Harvey and Isabel came down together. Rose was glad of her friend's presence—it made it easier for her.