She studied me with an air of angelic sweetness. "Oh no, I could never believe that." And she went more resolutely toward the door. Hugh returned in good spirits from Philadelphia. He had been well received. His name had secured him much the same welcome as that accorded him on his first excursions into Wall Street. I didn't tell him I feared that the results would be similar, for I saw that he was cheered. To verify the love I had acknowledged to him more than once, I was eager to look at him again. I found a man thinner and older and shabbier than the Hugh who first attracted my attention by being kind to me. I could have borne with his being thinner and older; but that he should be shabbier wrung my heart. I considered myself engaged to him. That as yet I had not spoken the final word was a detail, in my mind, considering that I had so often rested in his arms and pillowed my head on his shoulder. The fact, too, that when I had first allowed myself those privileges I had taken him to be a strong character--the shadow of a rock in a thirsty land, I had called him--and that I now saw he was a weak one, bound me to him the more closely. I had gone to him because I needed him; but now that I saw he needed me I was sure I could never break away from him. He dined with me at the Mary Chilton on the evening of his return, sitting where Larry Strangways had sat only forty-eight hours previously. I was sorry then that I had not changed the table. To be face to face with two men, on exactly the same spot, on occasions so near together, in conditions so alike, gave me a sense of faithlessness. Though I wanted nothing so much as to be honest with them both, I was afraid of being so with neither; and yet for this I hardly knew where to place the blame. I suffered for Hugh because of Larry Strangways, and I suffered for Larry Strangways because of Hugh. If I suffered for myself I was scarcely aware of it, having to give so much thought to them. Nevertheless, I regretted that I had not chosen another table, and all the more when Hugh brought the matter up. He had finished telling me of his experiences in Philadelphia. "Now what have you been doing?" he demanded, a smile lighting up his tired face. "Oh, nothing much--the same old thing." "Seen anybody in particular?" I weighed my answer carefully. "Nobody in particular, except Mr. Strangways." He frowned. "Where did you see that fellow?" "Right here." "Right here? What do you mean by that?" "He came to dine with me." "Dine with you! And sat where I'm sitting now?" I tried to take this pleasantly. "It's the only place I've got to ask any one I want to talk to." "But why should you want to talk to--to--" I saw him struggling with the word, but it came out--"to that bounder?" "He's a friend of mine, Hugh. I've asked you already to remember that he's a gentleman."