“It shall be as you wish, but I wish you would consider that we are engaged. I’d like to put a ring on your finger tomorrow and feel that you are my promised wife.”

Marjorie turned her head away and looked troubled again.

“I can’t think of these things now!” she said. “Please let us be just friends, as we have always been!”

He studied her for a moment, and then his lips set in a firm line of determination.

“Very well,” he said quite cheerfully. “I am just your friend for now, but a very special friend, you know. One whom you can call upon for anything. Will you feel that?”

She smiled with relief.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you! Good night!” and she put out her hand and gave his a brief, impersonal clasp.

Then he was gone, and she stood alone, looking down at the gardenias he had brought and wondering why she had not thrilled to his touch. Why, somehow, her feeling of his friendliness had been lost in a new something that she did not understand nor want. Not now, anyway.

Chapter 2

Marjorie found she was too excited to sleep when she laid her head on her pillow. But strangely enough, it was not on the eager protests of love that her mind dwelt most during that night’s vigil, but more on Evan’s insistence that she should not search out her people. And the more she thought of it, the less she thought of him.

Still, she knew that was not fair either. If Evan really loved her as he said he did, it might be natural, if not noble, at least for her sake, to wish to protect her against anything that might annoy or embarrass her. And yet, the more she faced the possibility that her family might be embarrassing, the more she felt it her duty to search them out and know the truth.

After all, even if she wanted to accept the love that had been offered her—and she wasn’t at all sure that she did—it was all so new and unexpected, and her reaction to it was tempered by his utter distaste for having her birth family in her background. Could she honestly marry any man without knowing the truth about her family?

And, of course, she could not get away from the fact that they were her parents and had a right to a place in her life, whether she or her friends or anybody else wanted them there or not. What that place was to be must be decided before she went on another step in life. No other questions of life or love or future happiness could be settled until she dealt with that. And she would have to deal with it alone. No one else could settle it for her.

She awoke in the morning with the definite purpose in her heart to get the matter over with at once. She would start right away before anything else could possibly delay her. If any more people came in and tried to turn her from her purpose she would become bewildered again.

She dressed hastily and sat down at her desk at once, determined to burn all bridges behind her. She wrote charming little notes declining all her invitations, and then wrote to Evan Brower.

Dear Evan:

I have kept my promise and thought over carefully the matter of which we were speaking last evening, and have decided that I must visit my family at once. When I come back I hope to be able to talk about the question more intelligently.

Please don’t think I do not appreciate your kind thought for me, but I feel that this is a question I must investigate and decide for myself, and I must settle it before I do anything else.

I have written your mother, thanking her for her kind invitation and telling her how sorry I am that it doesn’t seem possible for me to visit her just now.

I shall probably return sometime after New Year’s Day, or perhaps sooner if I get homesick. But I will let you know when I get back.

Thank you for all your kindness, and I’m trusting that you will try to understand.

Most gratefully,

Marjorie

She felt better when the notes were written. It seemed as if she were already started on her journey. But she decided not to mail them until just as she was leaving. She did not want anybody coming in to try to hinder her. Evan would not be able to get away from his office before evening, and if anyone else came she would merely say she was about to visit relatives for the holidays.

She called up the station and made her reservations on a train that left the city a little after six that night. Then she went down to the kitchen and gave the house servants a vacation for the holidays, all except the chauffeur and his wife, who lived over the garage and would care for the house.

After all her worry, it was very simple. The servants were delighted and did not ask her plans. She told them she would be visiting relatives.