Eleanor had quite worked herself up to a pitch of righteous indignation when, on surveying the ground that had brought her to this point, she became uncomfortably conscious of some slight changes within herself; for here before her, looking into her eyes and saying all sorts of pretty things, which of course were nonsensical, was the "fatal beauty" whom she had always looked upon as a boy. Half-vexed, half-amused she rose to go, and when Cliff, after helping her with her coat, gently pressed her hand, she felt immensely like boxing his ears. It was idiotic and sentimental, his looking at her in that way, and there was no occasion whatever for his saying good-night like a lover in a play.
There was quite a little excitement and bustle of departure in the hall-way, as coats and cloaks were sought for, found, and donned. Jean stood by the large open fireplace, where a log lay smoldering, its red ashes still giving out a grateful heat, and at her side was Farr, hat in hand, a light summer overcoat on his arm. He spoke a few words to her as he took her hand in parting, and she looked up at him smiling and defiant. The girl's blue eyes were dark with unwonted excitement, her cheeks flushed with bright color, and Eleanor noted all this and found her impressions of the evening deepened.
When the last guest had gone, Helen dropped down on the foot of the stairs.
"Oh, how tired I am," she exclaimed. "Do put out the lamps in the drawing-room, Nat, like a good girl." Then she rose to her feet with a little sigh of weariness. "I think I am sleepy too," she said.
"I wish I were," spoke Jean from before the fire, her whole expression eminently wide-awake.
"Come to bed, Jeanie," laughed Helen, "and court sleep. Perhaps it will come to you if you do."
Jean paused a moment by the hall table to select one from out of the mass of books and magazines collected there, and then followed Helen up the stairs.
When she had reached her room she threw herself down in an easy-chair and opened her book.
"You won't mind if I read for a while, will you, Nat? There is no use of thinking of going to sleep yet."
Nathalie whistled very softly, at which Jean glanced swiftly up at her.