The pictures, the bowls of roses, all the inanimate things she had grown to look upon as friends--it seemed to her to-night that they looked coldly to her, resenting her presence as an interloper; and in one queer, horrible flash of insight Toni seemed to visualize the woman who should have been the _chatelaine_ of Greenriver--a tall, dignified, beautiful woman, with the bearing of a princess.... "What's the matter, dear?" Owen had seen her shiver. "Are you cold? Yet it's a warm night." "No, thank you, I'm not cold." She spoke gently. "I--I think I'm a little tired." She picked up a brown envelope from the table. "Look, Owen, here's a telegram for you." "So there is. Open it for me, will you, dear?" She did so and handed him the flimsy paper. His eyes brightened as he read. "Good old Barry! He's wasted no time--Miss Loder will come down to-morrow by the ten o'clock train. I must send the car." He went out and spoke to the chauffeur, returning to say: "Will you arrange for some lunch to be sent up every day, Toni? She can get off by the four train, I daresay, and that will give us a good long time for work." "I will see to it," Toni said quietly. "Thanks, dear. Let me see, there's half an hour before dinner. I might go and put everything in order as far as we've gone, so that we can start fair. I mustn't waste her time when she gets here." "No. Of course not." Although she tried to speak casually, a note in her voice struck Owen rather unpleasantly. He looked at her sharply in the lamplight; and something in her child-like attitude, as she stood motionless, her hands hanging by her sides, gave him a sudden twinge of something like reproach. He looked round quickly. They were alone, and acting on impulse Owen stooped, and putting his left hand under her chin, tilted her face upwards until their eyes met. "Come, Toni." He had seen the tears in those wistful eyes of hers. "What's the matter? You are not hurt about the work, are you? If you would rather not have the woman, say so, and we will go on as we have been doing. It will get easier in time." "Oh no!" Toni spoke quickly, though her lips quivered. "Indeed I'm not hurt. I--I'm sorry I'm such a fool. I'm only a hindrance to you instead of a help." Although he had no conception of the wound dealt to her by two thoughtless women, Owen realized that she was in earnest; that she understood, and regretted, her failure to give him the help he needed; and for perhaps the first time since his marriage Owen pitied his wife sincerely. After all, it was he, not she, who was to blame; and being still in the dark, Owen thanked God that at least she had no idea he had married her without giving her the love she had had a right to expect.