The man who answered his ring at the Sherrills' recognized him at once and admitted him; in reply to Alan's question, the servant said that Mr. Sherrill had not yet returned. When Alan went to his room, the valet appeared and, finding that Alan was packing, the man offered his service. Alan let him pack and went down-stairs; a motor had just driven up to the house.
It proved to have brought Constance and her mother; Mrs. Sherrill, after informing Alan that Mr. Sherrill might not return until some time later, went up-stairs and did not appear again. Constance followed her mother but, ten minutes later came downstairs.
"You're not staying here to-night?" she said.
"I wanted to say to your father," Alan explained, "that I believe I had better go over to the other house."
She came a little closer to him in her concern. "Nothing has happened here?"
"Here? You mean in this house?" Alan smiled. "No; nothing."
She seemed relieved. Alan, remembering her mother's manner, thought he understood; she knew that remarks had been made, possibly, which repeated by a servant might have offended him.
"I'm afraid it's been a hard day for you," she said.
"It's certainly been unusual," Alan admitted.
It had been a hard day for her, too, he observed; or probably the recent days, since her father's and her own good friend had gone, had been trying. She was tired now and nervously excited; but she was so young that the little signs of strain and worry, instead of making her seem older, only made her youth more apparent. The curves of her neck and her pretty, rounded shoulders were as soft as before; her lustrous, brown hair was more beautiful, and a slight flush colored her clear skin.