She had been afraid of something like this from the minute he was announced, and so hastened to cling to the impersonal.

“Then, the apartment is so convenient.  Being all on one floor, it is so much easier for Mr. Wayne to get about it than if he had stairs to climb.  I didn’t tell you that I’ve had Mrs. Wayne’s room done over for Evie.  It’s so much larger and lighter than her old one—­”

He cleared his throat uneasily.

“I remember your saying something of the kind before you went away in the spring.  It’s one of the things I came in to talk about to-day?”

“Indeed?” His change of tone alarmed her.  He had taken on the air of a man about to break unpleasant news.  “Won’t you sit down?  I’ll ring for tea.  We’re not in very good order yet, but the servants can give us that much.”

She spoke for the purpose of hiding her uneasiness, just as she felt that she should be more sure of herself while handling the teacups than if she were sitting idle.

“I’ve had a letter from Mr. Jarrott,” he said, making himself comfortable, while she moved the tea-table in front of her.  “He wrote to me, partly as Stephens and Jarrott’s legal adviser, and partly as a friend.”

He allowed that information time to sink in before continuing.

“He tells me Miss Jarrott is on her way home, with Evie.”

“Yes; Evie herself wrote me that.  I got the letter at Cherbourg.”

“Then she probably told you about the house.”

“The house?  What house?”

“The house they’ve asked me to take for the winter—­for Miss Jarrott and her.”

The tea-things came, giving her the relief of occupation.  She said nothing for the moment, and her attention seemed concentrated on the rapid, silent movements of her own hands among the silver and porcelain.  Once she looked up, but her glance fell as she saw his small, keen, gray-green eyes scanning her obliquely.

“So I’m not to have her?” she said, at last.

“It’s only for this winter—­”

“Oh, I know.  But what’s for this winter will be for every winter!”

“And she won’t be far away.  I’ve taken the Grant’s house in Seventy-second
Street.  They asked for a house in which they could do some entertaining. 
You see, they want to give her a good time—­”

“I quite understand all that.  Evie has to ‘come out.’  I’ve not the least doubt that they’re managing it in the best way possible.  Yes, I see that.  If I feel a little—­well, I won’t say hurt—­but a little—­sorry—­it’s because I’ve almost brought Evie up.  And I suppose I’m the person she’s most fond of—­as far as she’s fond of any one.”

“I presume she’s fond of my nephew, Billy Merrow.”

“I hope so.  Billy rather teased her into that engagement, you know.  She’s too young to be deeply in love—­unless it was with one romantic.  And Billy isn’t that.  I’m not sure that there isn’t trouble ahead for him.”