CHAPTER X
THE RIFT WIDENS
ACROSS the breakfast table next morning Rowan faced a hostile young stranger. The gay comrade who was so dear to him, the eager, impulsive girl all fire and flame and dewy softness, had vanished to give place to a cold and flinty critic. Abruptly and without notice she had withdrawn her friendship. Why? Was it that she had grown tired of him and what he had to offer? Or had he done something to displease her?
Manlike, he tried gifts.
“I’ve decided to have that conservatory built for you off the living room as soon as I can get the glass. Better draw up your plans right away.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it.”
Her voice was like icy water.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently, and presently he finished his breakfast and left the room.
Ruth bit her lip and looked out of the window. Tears began to film her eyes. She went to her room, locked the door, and flung herself down on the bed in a passion of weeping.