For since arriving at Jack's house not thirty-six hours before, Frieda had been happier than she had for several months. Therefore, during the night she had decided for the hundredth time, that her husband must be the sole cause of all the upsetting emotions which had been recently troubling her. So soon as she could learn to forget Henry and put the recollection of him entirely out of her mind, she would again become the perfectly care free and irresponsible Frieda of the old days at the Rainbow Ranch. As she was not fond of getting up in the mornings and usually did pretty much what she liked in her sister's house, Frieda had not gone down to breakfast. However, she sent word to her brother-in-law that she would be glad to see him in her own sitting room between eleven and twelve o'clock. Whether it was done intentionally or not, Frieda put on a frock in which she looked particularly young. It was a simple white muslin, with sprays of blue flowers and folded kerchief fashion across Frieda's white throat. Nothing could really make Frieda appear demure; her lips were too full and crimson; her nose was too retrousée and her hair held too much pure sunlight. But she could look very innocent and much abused, and this was the impression she subconsciously wished to make. One must not believe that Frieda actually thought out matters of this kind, but she was one of the women who acted on what is supposed to be feminine instinct. Frank thought Frieda looked about sixteen instead of twenty-two when he arrived to talk matters over with her. So at once it struck him as absurd that he was forced to discuss so serious a question as leaving her husband with a mere child like Frieda. Instead of argument Frank began with persuasion. First he invited Frieda to tell her side of the story, which he had heard in part from Jack. Although he had said at the time of his wife's confidence, that Frieda had not made much of a case for herself, on hearing her story from Frieda's own lips he offered no such criticism. When Frieda ended she was crying, so that Frank sympathetically took her hand to console her as any other man would. Then, while holding her hand, he attempted a mild argument in favor of the Professor, finally concluding: "Frieda, your husband is coming to Kent House some time this afternoon. Since it is really your duty to see him and talk over the misunderstanding between you, I feel sure you will." Nevertheless, Frieda gently but obstinately shook her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Frank, and Jack too, if she really feels as you do, but I never mean to see Henry again."