Norma came one afternoon two days later with the atmosphere of enthusiasm trailing, as it seemed to Eugene, like a cloud of glory about her. She was both fire and strength to him in her regard and sympathy, even though she resented, ever so slightly, his affectional desertion. "You piggy-wiggy Eugene Witla," she exclaimed. "What do you mean by running off and getting married and never saying a word. I never even had a chance to get you a present and now I have to bring it. Isn't this a charming place--why it's perfectly delightful," and as she laid her present down unopened she looked about to see where Mrs. Eugene Witla might be. Angela was in the bedroom finishing her toilet. She was expecting this descent and so was prepared, being suitably dressed in the light green house gown. When she heard Miss Whitmore's familiar mode of address she winced, for this spoke volumes for a boon companionship of long endurance. Eugene hadn't said so much of Miss Whitmore in the past as he had recently, but she could see that they were very intimate. She looked out and saw her--this tall, not very shapely, but graceful woman, whose whole being represented dynamic energy, awareness, subtlety of perception. Eugene was shaking her hand and looking genially into her face. "Why should Eugene like her so much?" she asked herself instantly. "Why did his face shine with that light of intense enthusiasm?" The "piggy-wiggy Eugene Witla" expression irritated her. It sounded as though she might be in love with him. She came out after a moment with a glad smile on her face and approached with every show of good feeling, but Miss Whitmore could sense opposition. "So this is Mrs. Witla," she exclaimed, kissing her. "I'm delighted to know you. I have always wondered what sort of a girl Mr. Witla would marry. You'll just have to pardon my calling him Eugene. I'll get over it after a bit, I suppose, now that he's married. But we've been such good friends and I admire his work so much. How do you like studio life--or are you used to it?" Angela, who was taking in every detail of Eugene's old friend, replied in what seemed an affected tone that no, she wasn't used to studio life: she was just from the country, you know--a regular farmer girl--Blackwood, Wisconsin, no less! She stopped to let Norma express friendly surprise, and then went on to say that she supposed Eugene had not said very much about her, but he wrote her often enough. She was rejoicing in the fact that whatever slight Eugene's previous silence seemed to put upon her, she had the satisfaction that she had won him after all and Miss Whitmore had not. She fancied from Miss Whitmore's enthusiastic attitude that she must like Eugene very much, and she could see now what sort of women might have made him wish to delay. Who were the others, she wondered?