"It is a great shame," complained Nathalie. "What shall we do with ourselves?" At Emily's first words Jean started forward, then fell back in her chair, dazed and stunned. She pressed her hand against her heart to stay its loud throbbing, passionately grateful that the kindly darkness sheltered her from view. She could not tell how long it might have been when she was aroused by a sentence from Emily which arrested her attention. "Yes, it is such a pretty stitch. I'll teach it to you some day, Helen." Had she heard aright? Could it be possible that the _Vortex_ was already forgotten--its officers banished to the indifferent past? Her sudden excitement died away and a dull feeling of pain tugged at her heart. Her hands dropped nervelessly into her lap, and her lids closed wearily over her aching eyes. The conversation drifted into local channels, and Miss Stuart was beginning to feel very much bored when Eleanor and Cliff sauntered up the driveway and joined the party. She awaked from her apathy to survey Cliff critically, and then proceeded to monopolize his attention. Cliff dropped into a chair beside her and lent himself readily to her plan. She was a charming woman, a beautiful woman, so he assumed his most devoted manner, and apparently succumbed at once to her gracious, subtle flattery. Eleanor cast an amused glance at him over her shoulder; she felt too sure of him to be disturbed; and pushing her way among the group until she reached Jean's side: "I met Johnnie Matthews at the gate, dear. He was on his way to the manor with a note for you, and, since it required no answer, I volunteered to bring it up." "Thanks, Eleanor. I suppose Mrs. Matthews wants me to take her class again next Sunday. She has been ill." Eleanor had dropped the note into Jean's lap and was moving away, but something in her friend's voice startled her. She looked at her curiously, but in that light she could not discern her expression. She hesitated a moment, and then sat down on the arm of Jean's chair. "How is Gladys to-night?" she asked. Jean made an effort to speak more naturally. "Very comfortable, thank you. The doctor says her arm is doing nicely, and so far she has not had any fever." "Eleanor, did you know the _Vortex_ had gone?" As Nathalie spoke Eleanor impulsively took Jean's hand in hers. It was very cold, and trembled in her clasp. Jean's unhappiness was explained, and at the same moment another idea flashed through her mind. She answered Nathalie with well-feigned lightness: "It can't be more than a temporary absence, I am sure." Then added in a lower tone to Jean, "Don't you want to read your note, dearie? It may not be from Mrs. Matthews." Jean gave a start, and, instinctively, her disengaged hand closed over the note in her lap. "I think I will take it to the light."