John found George Corliss at his office that afternoon and went out to his house with him. He remained in Washington until Sunday morning and then went on to New York. David’s welcome was hearty, the new automobile was tantalizing and mysterious in its actions, the holiday attractions at the theatres were excellent, and the remaining days of recess sped rapidly. Back at Elaine John’s departure left a vacancy that was apparent for many days. Phillip moped about the house and grounds and refused to be comforted until “Uncle Bob” reminded him that the season for partridges ended with the last day of December. Then he picked up spirits, and during the next few days they shot far and wide. Margaret went back to her somewhat neglected household affairs cheerfully enough, but found to her surprise and dismay that, with John North’s departure, things seemed less well worth doing. She strove to find a reason for this, but failed. She did not love him; of that she was certain. A woman, she told herself, does not fall in love with a man on six days’ acquaintance. She liked him, yes, very much; she was amazed to find how much. She liked him far better than any man she had known. She mentally compared him with these, with Nate Willis, with several quasi and would-be suitors of the town, with the wealthy gentleman breeder who came over regularly from Prentiss every week to dinner and made open love to her over the roast; and he emerged triumphant from every comparison. She owned to herself that John North was what she would have the man she loved: strong, gentle; capable, considerate; manly, tender and good to look upon. He was all these, and yet――no, she did not care for him in the way he would have her care for him, in the way she must care for the man whose wife she was to be. She wondered why. Perhaps, after all, in spite of her denials, if he should come again, if she were to meet him day after day―――― She paused at her work and stared speculatingly out of the window. Couldn’t she, after all, grow to care for him? Surely, it wouldn’t be impossible? Impossible! Of a sudden it seemed to her that it would be very easy, and she seized her work again and sewed hurriedly as though to change the current of her thoughts. But presently the needle was again idle. She had promised――such a promise! What had possessed her to make it! Supposing――some day――it should become incumbent upon her to keep it! She gave a little gasp of dismay. Suddenly she had become fearful of that promise! “Uncle Bob” left them three days after John had gone and went back to Richmond with a hamper of birds and a surcease from gout. Phillip was preparing for his own departure, and Margaret began, in anticipation, to feel lonely.