It fairly took her breath away, and a sudden new sensation shot through her heart that had never found lodgment there before.
She drew back and said no more, a deathly pallor overspreading her face. She did not interfere again, and she suffered them to arrange the invitations after that to please themselves.
She rose quietly at length and made her way to the window, great tears rising to her sightless eyes.
They did not even notice her absence, but chatted and laughed quite the same.
After they had finished Harry proposed that they should take the invitations to be mailed. This Iris gayly assented to, and they left the room without once making any excuse to Dorothy for leaving her there alone.
The fact was that they were not even aware that she had seated herself in the bay window behind the great, heavy portières.
For the first time Dorothy wished that Iris had not come. She was already beginning to feel the weight of the iron hand that was soon to crush her—jealousy.
She awaited their coming with the greatest impatience, but it was long hours ere they returned.
Chapter XIV.
Harry Kendal did not intend being untrue to Dorothy when he let himself drift into that platonic friendship with Iris, the beauty, which had developed into such a dangerous flirtation.