He hesitated. "Well, you know, after Elizabeth's marriage and your decision to throw up the sponge--you remember you wrote to me of your decision, don't you?---- Well, after that I did write occasionally, for a year or two, but then it all seemed so hopeless, and I realized that you didn't mean to marry me, so I thought it best to let you go. I had my work, Joan, and I tried to wipe you out; you were a disturbing element." She nodded. She could understand his not having wanted a distraction in the days when he was making his career, she could even understand his having dropped her; what interest could he have had in so disappointing a life as hers? "And you, on the other hand, have made good?" she queried, continuing her own train of thought. He sighed. "Oh, yes, I suppose so; I'm considered a very successful man, I believe." It came to her as a shock that she ought to know something about this very successful man, and that the mere fact that she knew nothing showed how completely she had dropped away from all her old interests. "Don't be angry, Richard," she said apologetically. "But please tell me what you do. Did you specialize in nerves after all?" He shook his head. "No, Joan, I specialized in brain; I'm a surgeon, my dear." "A great one, Richard?" "Oh, I don't know; I'm fairly useful, I think." His words roused a vague echo in her, something stirred feebly; the ghost of by-gone enthusiasm, called from the grave by the mere proximity of this man, so redolent of self-confidence and success. She moved uneasily, conscious that her thoughts were straying backwards. "Elizabeth----" she began, but checked herself, and at that moment a porter came up. "Please, miss, the lady in twenty-four says will you come up at once, she's in bed." "I must go; good-night, Richard." "Wait a minute!" he said eagerly. "When shall I see you again?" She hesitated. "I think I can get off for a walk at nine o'clock to-morrow morning; Mother won't be getting up until about twelve." "I shall be waiting here in the hall," he said. When she was gone, he lit a cigar and went out into the night to think. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX 1 THE next morning Joan awoke with a feeling of excitement; the moment she opened her eyes she knew that something unusual had happened. She got up and dressed, more carefully than she had done for many years past. She parted her hair on one side again. Why not? It certainly looked neater parted. She was glad now that she had bought those new collars and ties. She took an incredibly long time to knot the tie satisfactorily and this dashed her a little. "My hand's out," she thought, "and I used to tie a tie so well." She put on her grey flannel suit, thinking as she did so that it was less frumpish in cut than the others; then she crushed her soft felt hat into the shape affected by the young women with bobbed hair, and was pleased with the result. Her mother was awake when she went into her room.