She did not look particularly glad, however. She leaned her head against the back of the chair, and closed her eyes with weary listlessness. Aunt Hetty watched her with a thrill of apprehension. Was her fancy for their departed guest something more than mere fancy?—had she not begun even to forget yet, after all?
She opened her eyes suddenly while Aunt Hetty was thinking this, and spoke abruptly.
"What did Mr. Thorndyke say when he found I was gone?"
"Nothing. Oh—he asked how long you were going to stay."
"Was that all?"
"That was all."
"Did he not inquire where I had gone?"
"No, my dear."
Norine said no more. The firelight shone full on her face, and she lifted a book and held it as a screen. So long she sat mute and motionless that Aunt Hetty fancied she had fallen asleep. She laid her hand on her shoulder. Norine's black, sombre eyes looked up.
"I thought you were asleep, my dear, you sat so still. Is anything the matter?"