"I'm sorry," she said, "but it seemed impossible to make the effort to-night. You'll forgive me, won't you?"
"Of course," Madame returned sweetly.
"Of course," Alden echoed. His voice sounded distant and his eyes were dull.
As dinner bade fair to be a silent function, Madame turned to Edith with the first question that came into her mind.
"What have you been doing all the afternoon?"
"Packing," replied Edith, with dry lips.
Nothing to Say
"Or rather, getting ready to pack." She did not look at Alden, but at Madame, with a wan little smile that made the old lady's heart suddenly very tender toward her.
"My dear! We'll miss you so."
"I know," Edith murmured, "and I shall miss you—more than words may say, but I have to go." She drained the glass of water at her plate, then added: "My husband wants me to come back. He has written to say so."