II
By the middle of the afternoon Grace was again enmeshed in a network of doubt and apprehension. Trenton was making a journey for the express purpose of meeting his wife; he had probably reached Indianapolis at noon and gone at once to Miss Reynolds’s to see her. Grace’s imagination was playing cruel tricks upon her; she pictured the meeting between Trenton and his wife in a hundred ways. He would kiss her, perhaps take her into his arms; and after their long separation it was possible that both might experience a reawakening of the early passion that had died in them. Grace, seeking the lowest depths of humility, knew herself only as Number Eighteen at Shipley’s, a girl to be played with and cast aside by another woman’s husband whenever it pleased him to be done with her. In her self-abasement she recalled Irene’s oft-reiterated declaration about Kemp, that she admired his brains and was fond of him but never deceived herself with the idea that she loved him. This was the wiser way. Grace lashed herself pitilessly for her folly in giving her love so unreservedly when the result could bring nothing but unhappiness. Her love and trust wavered like sunlight struggling to penetrate a field of cloud.
She was standing near the entrance to the ready-to-wear department, inattentive and listless, when the rattle of the elevator door roused her and Trenton stepped out. At the sight of him the blood rushed to her heart till it seemed for a moment that she would die of joy at the sight of him.
He saw her at once and walked quickly toward her. He had never before seemed so handsome and distinguished. His step had the elasticity of youth, and there was a happy light in his eyes as he took her hand. This was the first time he had sought her at Shipley’s and she assumed that his coming meant that he had seized the only possible moment to see her.
“We can’t talk here, of course; I’ve got Kemp’s car and I can explain things as we ride,” he said. “Can you get excused for the rest of the day?”
Miss Boardman, busily marking price tags, gave the permission with an absent-minded nod and Grace hurried back to report that she was free and would get her wraps and meet him at the main entrance.
When they were in Kemp’s limousine Trenton ordered Craig to drive straight north, without mentioning a destination. There was no hint of trouble in his clear steady eyes. His air of perfect self-confidence, of knowing exactly what he was about, restored her faith. She loved him and she was proud that she loved him.
“Please don’t be frightened!” he began, clasping her hand when they were clear of the down-town traffic. “I’ve just seen Mrs. Trenton. She wired me for an appointment to discuss some of her personal business matters. As she’s going further West lecturing it was as convenient to see her here as anywhere else. So I came here and have already seen her at Miss Reynolds’s. It took some time to go over her investments and explain some changes I had made in them. When that was finished she suddenly asked about that letter I wrote to her last fall from St. Louis. That settled the question as to whether she ever got it.”
“Yes, I remember,” Grace replied faintly.
In spite of his cheerfulness she was sure that he was leading up to some disagreeable disclosure and involuntarily she drew away her hand.