"No, thank you, Margaret."
She answered in as cheerful a tone as she could assume, and the kind old waiting-woman retired.
From that time every one noted a change in Irene. But none knew, or even guessed, its cause or meaning. Not even to her friend, Mrs. Everet, did she speak of her meeting with Hartley Emerson. Her face did not light up as before, and her eyes seemed always as if looking inward or gazing dreamily upon something afar off. Yet in good deeds she failed not. If her own heart was heavier, she made other hearts lighter by her presence.
And still the years went on in their steady revolutions—one, two, three, four, five more years, and in all that time the parted ones did not meet again.
CHAPTER XXV.
BORN FOR EACH OTHER.
"I SAW Mr. Emerson yesterday," said Mrs. Everet. She was sitting with Irene in her own house in New York.
"Did you?" Irene spoke evenly and quietly, but did not turn her face toward Mrs. Everet.
"Yes. I saw him at my husband's store. Mr. Everet has engaged him to conduct an important suit, in which many thousands of dollars are at stake."