“And I,” she whispered,—“I felt that you were feeling that. But when I came, I thought I had been mistaken.”
Alexander started up and began to walk up and down the room.
“No, you weren’t mistaken. I’ve been up in Canada with my bridge, and I arranged not to come to New York until after you had gone. Then, when your manager added two more weeks, I was already committed.” He dropped upon the stool in front of her and sat with his hands hanging between his knees. “What am I to do, Hilda?”
“That’s what I wanted to see you about, Bartley. I’m going to do what you asked me to do when you were in London. Only I’ll do it more completely. I’m going to marry.”
“Who?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter much! One of them. Only not Mac. I’m too fond of him.”
Alexander moved restlessly. “Are you joking, Hilda?”
“Indeed I’m not.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, I know very well. I’ve thought about it a great deal, and I’ve quite decided. I never used to understand how women did things like that, but I know now. It’s because they can’t be at the mercy of the man they love any longer.”