But Frieda must have understood something of what was passing in her sister's mind, for she said:
"I know that may sound ridiculous to you, Jack, but it has made a lot of difference to me." There was a choking note in Frieda's voice. "A lot of our trouble has come from it. You know I dearly love to dance, so I used to go out in the afternoons as I didn't like staying at home by myself and did not want to trouble Henry to take me often."
"Not by yourself?"
"Certainly not," Frieda returned pettishly, "one can't very well dance alone."
"With any particular person?"
For a moment Jack held her breath.
At first Frieda shook her head. Afterwards she contradicted herself and nodded.
"There were three or four persons—young fellows—some of them students at the University, and most of the time other girls, too. At first Henry did not mind. Then he said people were beginning to talk and there was one person I liked especially, because he danced better than any one else, whom Henry said I could not go with at all. But I did go. Then I told Henry I was bored anyhow and wanted to be free. He was very disagreeable. So I ran away and just left a note. But I haven't been very happy for a long time, Jack, darling. I suppose you were right when you said I ought not to have married so young. Perhaps I am spoiled and selfish. Henry says I am, but some people like me anyhow."
Jack leaned over and took Frieda's chin in one of her firm white hands.
"There isn't anybody else, is there little, sister?" she demanded.