Once at home, she changed her clothes and straightened the rooms for herself. In the matter of the arrangement of the furniture she never took the house-maid's opinion. That young woman invariably put one of the rocking-chairs in the corner, and Carrie as regularly moved it out. To-day she hardly noticed that it was in the wrong place, so absorbed was she in her own thoughts. She worked about the room until Drouet put in appearance at five o'clock. The drummer was flushed and excited and full of determination to know all about her relations with Hurstwood. Nevertheless, after going over the subject in his mind the livelong day, he was rather weary of it and wished it over with. He did not foresee serious consequences of any sort, and yet he rather hesitated to begin. Carrie was sitting by the window when he came in, rocking and looking out. "Well," she said innocently, weary of her own mental discussion and wondering at his haste and ill-concealed excitement, "what makes you hurry so?" Drouet hesitated, now that he was in her presence, uncertain as to what course to pursue. He was no diplomat. He could neither read nor see. "When did you get home?" he asked foolishly. "Oh, an hour or so ago. What makes you ask that?" "You weren't here," he said, "when I came back this morning, and I thought you had gone out." "So I did," said Carrie simply. "I went for a walk." Drouet looked at her wonderingly. For all his lack of dignity in such matters he did not know how to begin. He stared at her in the most flagrant manner until at last she said: "What makes you stare at me so? What's the matter?" "Nothing," he answered. "I was just thinking." "Just thinking what?" she returned smilingly, puzzled by his attitude. "Oh, nothing--nothing much." "Well, then, what makes you look so?" Drouet was standing by the dresser, gazing at her in a comic manner. He had laid off his hat and gloves and was now fidgeting with the little toilet pieces which were nearest him. He hesitated to believe that the pretty woman before him was involved in anything so unsatisfactory to himself. He was very much inclined to feel that it was all right, after all. Yet the knowledge imparted to him by the chambermaid was rankling in his mind. He wanted to plunge in with a straight remark of some sort, but he knew not what. "Where did you go this morning?" he finally asked weakly. "Why, I went for a walk," said Carrie. "Sure you did?" he asked. "Yes, what makes you ask?" She was beginning to see now that he knew something. Instantly she drew herself into a more reserved position. Her cheeks blanched slightly. "I thought maybe you didn't," he said, beating about the bush in the most useless manner. Carrie gazed at him, and as she did so her ebbing courage halted. She saw that he himself was hesitating, and with a woman's intuition realised that there was no occasion for great alarm.