Yes, as Pearl feared, Antonia was lying on her bed, crumpled as to clothes and damp about the cheeks. Miss Exeter could see now, she said; she was treated like a step-child. Her mother didn't love her as she loved Dolly, and how could anyone love Dolly?--that's what she couldn't understand. Pearl had not thought it worth while to try to argue Antonia's case with Dolly, but the child was so clear-minded she did try to put Dolly's side of the case to her. Antonia admitted it all, but impatiently. "And why is he willing to come," she said--"a man like him? He's just making a convenience of Dolly, or something. He doesn't think anything about her at all." It was exactly Pearl's own impression. Then why was he coming? He came on Friday afternoon by the fast train, and Dolly in her new pink hat and her white motoring coat--just back from the cleaner and smelling a little bit of gasoline, but so much more becoming than her gray one--went to meet him. She and Allen and Mrs. Conway were all dining out that evening, and Pearl had organized a picnic for herself and Antonia and Durland, far up the beach, with the moon and a fire of driftwood and a great deal of excellent food. They did not see the house guest that evening. The next morning at half past nine Pearl was obliged to go to the garage to find Antonia; she was studying the oiling system of the green car. There was nothing unfriendly in her attitude to study; she was perfectly willing to learn, if she could only manage to remember that lesson time had come. They had lessons on the piazza. Pearl, looking out over the dazzling sea and thinking how pleasant a swim was going to be, had said "How do you spell 'separate,' Antonia?" and Antonia, twining her bare toes about the calf of the other leg, had got as far as "Well, I know it's an _e_ where you expect an _a_ or just the other way," when Williams, bending his head slightly under the curtains, stepped from the dining room upon the piazza. He looked extremely polished and soaped. He had on white trousers, a gray coat, a blue tie. Antonia, who had never seen him so near before, stared at him, forgetting even to say good morning. He bowed rather formally to the governess, but to Antonia he said, "Where were you last evening? I was watching for you and you didn't appear." He sat down and drew her toward him with an immaculate brown hand. Pearl had never seen Antonia embarrassed before. The child kept glancing up at Williams as if fascinated, and glancing quickly away again as if dazzled. Then she turned both knees inward, seemed to dig her toes into the boards and answered in a low, husky voice that they had been out on a picnic. "I think you might have asked me," said Williams. He spoke in that tone of false comedy--as if anything you said to a child must be ridiculous--that was peculiarly annoying to Pearl. Antonia bent her head and muttered that she had not thought he would have enjoyed it.