"Come home with me, do, and see papa and mamma. They will be so glad to see you. Poor papa has been ill of a fever, and is just convalescing."
He was in a reckless mood. He accepted the invitation and went home with her, but she did not find him a very congenial companion. He ignored her coquettish attempts to return to their old footing.
"You hate me yet," she pouted.
"Not at all. I am glad to be your friend, if you will permit me," he replied courteously.
"Friend!" Roma cried, in an indescribable tone.
He ignored the reproach, and said calmly:
"Tell me all that has happened since I went back to Boston. Who are married and who are dead?"
"No one that you know," replied Roma, and she never guessed what a thrill of joy the words sent to his heart.
He was glad. He could not help it, that Malcolm Dean had not married Liane yet. He was yearning for news of her, yet he knew better than to ask Roma for it. He knew it would only make her angry and jealous.
While he was alone in the drawing room, Roma having gone to apprise her parents of his arrival, he was startled to see Dolly Dorr sidle in, dressed in a dark-gray gown, with a maid's white cap and apron.