Once, as she lay awake that night, there came to her the thought that it might not be a bad scheme to try her hand with Colin, who had been far more gracious to her than Rex, but she soon gave that up. She had met him as she was leaving his house, and his manner, though civil, had not been very cordial. “Bless my soul, Miss Burdick, you here?” he had said and with some commonplace remark had passed on. Remembering this, she knew that he, too, had changed, and concluded to abandon her attack on him; nor would she see Rex again. He had deceived her. He cared only for money, and she believed she hated him. She was nobody now, where she had been so much; even Miss Parks’ manner was different, and she would leave the next day. This resolution she carried out in spite of Rena’s efforts to detain her. She only came for her trunks, she said, and was needed at home. Tom and Rena went with her to the station, and when that evening Tom saw Rex, he said to him, “Irene left a good-by for you; she has gone.” “Gone so soon? I thought I might see her again,” Rex replied; then after a moment, he added; “Better so, perhaps,” and that was all the mention he made of her. CHAPTER XXIII CONCLUSION November had come and the Oakfield visitors were all gone,—I to my work as stenographer,—Rena to New York, and Tom to Newton, where Rex finally joined him. He was very well and seemed very happy as he took every car line in and out of the city, and read every advertisement of “Villas for Sale.” He had been with Tom into the six room flat, third floor, and had sniffed at it scornfully. “Rena here!” he said, “in these little rooms, with an elevator to reach them! I tell you, Tom, it will never do, and I’ll have my way in this matter. That eighty thousand is going to do some good.” “All right,” Tom finally said. “Go ahead, and see what Rena says.” She was coming in a few days with her aunt to see the flat and decide on its furnishing, and Rex was quite as anxious about it as Tom, who anticipated a scene when she learned the truth. Mrs. Graham had objected to the flat, and had mentally objected to Tom, as a poor man. Reginald would have pleased her better. But she had no choice. Rena was to marry Tom and live in a flat, and was very happy and anxious to see both. Tom met them at the station and took them to the hotel where he had engaged rooms for them. It was too late when they arrived to see the flat that day, but Tom came early the next morning to take them to it in a very smart turnout. Rena had heard so much from her aunt of the economy she must practise as Tom’s wife, that the fine carriage and horses disturbed her as something Tom could not afford. “I shall have to restrain him,” she thought, “for it is like him when he has one dollar to spend two.” “Couldn’t we walk, or take a street-car?” she asked, and Tom replied: “Yes, but I am going to show you the city and some of the suburbs.”