Easter Sunday. As he walked on, he pondered the Christian story, and tried to make something out of it. Had it any significance for _him_? Perhaps, for he had never consciously discarded the old faith; he had simply let it fall out of his mind. But a woman ought to have religious convictions. Yes; he saw the necessity of that. Better for him if Eve were in the Town Hall yonder, joining her voice with those that sang. Better for _him_. A selfish point of view. But the advantage would be hers also. Did he not desire her happiness? He tried to think so, but after all was ashamed to play the sophist with himself. The letter he carried in his pocket told the truth. He had but to think of her as married to Robert Narramore and the jealous fury of natural man drove him headlong. Monday was again a holiday. When would the cursed people get back to their toil, and let the world resume its wonted grind and clang? They seemed to have been making holiday for a month past. He walked up and down on the pavement near his door, until at the street corner there appeared a figure he knew. It was Patty Ringrose, again unaccompanied. CHAPTER XXIV They shook hands without a word, their eyes meeting for an instant only. Hilliard led the way upstairs; and Patty, still keeping an embarrassed silence, sat down on the easy-chair. Her complexion was as noticeably fresh as Hilliard's was wan and fatigued. Where Patty's skin showed a dimple, his bore a gash, the result of an accident in shaving this morning. With hands behind he stood in front of the girl. "She chose not to come, then?" "Yes. She asked me to come and see you alone." "No pretence of headache this time." "I don't think it was a pretence," faltered Patty, who looked very ill at ease, for all the bloom on her cheeks and the clear, childish light in her eyes. "Well, then, why hasn't she come to-day?" "She has sent a letter for you, Mr. Hilliard." Patty handed the missive, and Hilliard laid it upon the table. "Am I to read it now?" "I think it's a long letter." "Feels like it. I'll study it at my leisure. You know what it contains?" Patty nodded, her face turned away. "And why has she chosen to-day to write to me?" Patty kept silence. "Anything to do with the call I had yesterday from my friend Narramore?" "Yes--that's the reason. But she has meant to let you know for some time." Hilliard drew a long breath. He fixed his eyes on the letter. "She has told me everything," the girl continued, speaking hurriedly. "Did you know about it before yesterday?" "I'm not so good an actor as all that. Eve has the advantage of me in that respect. She really thought it possible that Narramore had spoken before?" "She couldn't be sure." "H'm! Then she didn't know for certain that Narramore was going to talk to me about her yesterday?" "She knew it _must_ come." "Patty, our friend Miss Madeley is a very sensible person--don't you think so?"