I felt the blood mounting to my cheek. She knew, then, that I was virtually a prisoner at Glenarm, and for once in my life, at least, I was ashamed of my folly that had caused my grandfather to hold and check me from the grave, as he had never been able to control me in his life. The whole countryside knew why I was at Glenarm, and that did not matter; but my heart rebelled at the thought that this girl knew and mocked me with her knowledge. “I shall see you Christmas Eve,” I said, “wherever you may be.” “In three days? Then you will come to my Christmas Eve party. I shall be delighted to see you,—and flattered! Just think of throwing away a fortune to satisfy one’s curiosity! I’m surprised at you, but gratified, on the whole, Mr. Glenarm!” “I shall give more than a fortune, I shall give the honor I have pledged to my grandfather’s memory to hear your voice again.” “That is a great deal,—for so small a voice; but money, fortune! A man will risk his honor readily enough, but his fortune is a more serious matter. I’m sorry we shall not meet again. It would be pleasant to discuss the subject further. It interests me particularly.” “In three days I shall see you,” I said. She was instantly grave. “No! Please do not try. It would be a great mistake. And, anyhow, you can hardly come to my party without being invited.” “That matter is closed. Wherever you are on Christmas Eve I shall find you,” I said, and felt my heart leap, knowing that I meant what I said. “Good-by,” she said, turning away. “I’m sorry I shan’t ever chase rabbits at Glenarm any more.” “Or paddle a canoe, or play wonderful celestial music on the organ.” “Or be an eavesdropper or hear pleasant words from the master of Glenarm—” “But I don’t know where you are going—you haven’t told me anything—you are slipping out into the world—” She did not hear or would not answer. She turned away, and was at once surrounded by a laughing throng that crowded about the train. Two brown-robed Sisters stood like sentinels, one at either side, as she stepped into the car. I was conscious of a feeling that from the depths of their hoods they regarded me with un-Christian disdain. Through the windows I could see the students fluttering to seats, and the girl in gray seemed to be marshaling them. The gray hat appeared at a window for an instant, and a smiling face gladdened, I am sure, the guardians of the peace at St. Agatha’s, for whom it was intended. The last trunk crashed into the baggage car, every window framed for a moment a girl’s face, and the train was gone. CHAPTER XVI THE PASSING OF OLIVIA