She came back bringing Miss Burgess in her wake, Miss Burgess apologizing for "coming right _in_, that way," exclaiming effusively at the pretty picture made by mother and child,--"She must be such company for you, Miss Lydia"--Miss Burgess, deferential, sure of her own position and her hostess', and determinedly pleased with the general state of things. Lydia repressed a sigh of impatience, but, noting the tired lines in the little woman's face, told Anastasia to make another cup of tea for Miss Burgess and cook her an egg. "Oh, delighted, I'm sure! Quite an honor to have the same lunch with little Miss Hollister." Ariadne did not smile at this remark, though from the speaker's accent it was meant as a pleasantry. Miss Burgess cast about in her mind for another bit of suitable badinage, but finding none, she began at once on the object of her visit. "Now, my dear, I want you to listen to all I have to say before you make one objection. It's an idea of my very own. You'll let me get through without interruption?" "Yes, oh, yes," murmured Lydia, lifting Ariadne down from her high-chair and untying the napkin from about her thin little neck. The introduction of a new element in her surroundings had for a moment broken the thread of her exalted resolutions. She wondered with a sore heart, as though it had been a common lovers' quarrel, how she and Paul could ever get over the first sight of each other again. She was wondering how, with the most passionate resolve in the world, she could do anything at all under the leaden garment of physical fatigue which would weigh her down in the months to come.