CHAPTER X
NEMESIS
It was her at-home day. As she sat there, with her hands clasped listlessly on her lap, it seemed as though in imagination she saw the ghosts of other days arise—days where the little room had been crowded with eager, chattering friends who had come to tell her and each other the latest news of their servants, their husbands or the service, or to be "intellectual," as the case might be. She thought she saw Frau von Seleneck seated on the sofa opposite her, her round, rosy face bright with an irrepressible optimism; she thought she heard the rich, contented chuckle, and felt the maternal pat upon her arm. Then her vision cleared, and the ghosts vanished. The little room was empty of all but shadows, and she was alone.
Presently the door of her husband's study opened. She heard him come towards her, and knew that he was standing at her side; but she did not look up. She felt for the moment too listless, too weary, above all too proud to let him see how deeply her new isolation wounded her.
"All alone, dear?"
"Yes, all alone."
"I thought it was your at-home day?"
She tried to laugh.
"Yes, so it is. But no one has come, you see."
"How is that?"