She promised unreflectingly, seeing no snare. But as she walked to Bryanston Square on Sunday afternoon, more of a presentiment, a foreboding of evil, than a suspicion fixed itself upon her mind, and she wished she had not agreed to come. She was shown into the drawing-room, and there, beside a gilt-framed picture over which a cloth was thrown, with her great brown eyes meeting her defiantly, stood Aline. Chapter XXI--THE MOTH MEETS THE STAR THUS had Aline, her heart hot for battle in Jimmie's cause, contrived with Connie Deering as subsidiary conspirator. She had lain awake most of the night, thinking of the approaching interview, composing speeches, elaborating arguments, defining her attitude. Her plan of campaign was based on the assumption of immediate hostilities. She had pictured a scornful lady moved to sudden anger at seeing herself trapped, and haughtily refusing to discuss overtures of peace. It was to be war from the first, until she had brought her adversary low; and when the door-handle rattled and the door opened to admit Norma, every nerve in her young body grew tense, and her heart beat like the clapper of a bell. Norma entered, looked for a moment in smiling surprise at Aline, came quickly forward, and moved by a sudden impulse, a yearning for love, sweetness, freshness, peace--she knew not what--she put her arms round the girl and kissed her. “My dear Aline, how sweet it is to see you again!” The poor little girl stood helpless. The bottom was knocked out of her half-childish plan of campaign. There was no scornful lady, no haughty words, no hostilities. She fell to crying. What else could she do? “There, there! Don't cry, dear,” said Norma soothingly, almost as helpless. Seating herself on a low chair and drawing Aline to her side, she looked up at the piteous face. “Why should you cry, dear?” “I did n't know you would be so good to me,” answered Aline, wiping her eyes. “Why should n't I be good to you? What reason could I have for not being glad to see you?” “I don't know,” said the girl, with a touch of bitterness. “Things are so different now.” Norma sighed for answer and thought of her premonition. She was aware that Connie had deliberately planned this interview, but could find no resentment in her heart. The reproach implied in Aline's words she accepted humbly. She was at once too spiritless for anger, and too much excited by the girl's presence for regret at having come. Her eye fell upon the picture leaning against the chair-back, and a conjecture swiftly passed through her mind. “Mrs. Deering asked me to come and look at a wedding-present,” she said with a smile. “Did she tell you from whom?” asked Aline, thrusting her handkerchief into her pocket. She had found her nerve again. “No.” “It's from Jimmie.” “Is it that over there?” Aline caught and misinterpreted an unsteadiness of voice. She threw herself on her knees by Norma's side.