prolonged　absence　from　the　Annex。　　Coming　as
  it　did　so　soon　after　her　most　disconcerting　talk
  with　Billy　in　regard　to　her　own　relations　with
  him；　it　had　filled　her　with　frightened　questionings。
  If　Billy　had　seen　things　to　make　her　think　of
  linking　their　names　together；　perhaps　Arkwright
  himself　had　heard　some　such　idea　put　forth
  somewhere；　and　that　was　why　he　was　staying
  awayto　show　the　world　that　there　was　no
  foundation　for　such　rumors。　　Perhaps　he　was
  even　doing　it　to　show　_her_　that
  Even　in　her　thoughts　Alice　could　scarcely
  bring　herself　to　finish　the　sentence。　　That　Arkwright
  should　ever　suspect　for　a　moment　that
  she　cared　for　him　was　intolerable。　　Painfully
  conscious　as　she　was　that　she　did　care　for　him；
  it　was　easy　to　fear　that　others　must　be　conscious
  of　it；　too。　　Had　she　not　already　proof　that　Billy
  suspected　it？　　Why；　then；　might　not　it　be　quite
  possible；　even　probable；　that　Arkwright　suspected
  it；　also；　and；　because　he　did　suspect　it；　had
  decided　that　it　would　be　just　as　well；　perhaps；　if
  he　did　not　call　so　often。
  In　spite　of　Alice's　angry　insistence　to　herself
  that；　after　all；　this　could　not　be　the　case
  that　the　man　_knew_　she　understood　he　still　loved
  Billyshe　could　not　help　fearing；　in　the　face
  of　Arkwright's　unusual　absence；　that　it　might
  yet　be　true。　　When；　therefore；　he　finally　did
  appear；　only　to　become　at　once　obviously　embarrassed
  in　her　presence；　her　fears　instantly　became
  convictions。　　It　was　true；　then。　　The　man
  did　believe　she　cared　for　him；　and　he　had　been
  trying　to　teach　herto　save　her。
  To　teach　her！　　To　save　her；　indeed！　　Very
  well；　he　should　see！　　And　forthwith；　from　that
  moment；　Alice　Greggory's　chief　reason　for　living
  became　to　prove　to　Mr。　M。　J。　Arkwright　that
  he　needed　not　to　teach　her；　to　save　her；　nor　yet
  to　sympathize　with　her。
  ‘‘How　do　you　do？''　she　greeted　him；　with　a
  particularly　bright　smile。　　‘‘I'm　sure　I　_hope_　you
  are　well；　such　a　beautiful　day　as　this。''
  ‘‘Oh；　yes；　I'm　well；　I　suppose。　　Still；　I　have
  felt　better　in　my　life；''　smiled　Arkwright；　with
  some　constraint。
  ‘‘Oh；　I'm　sorry；''　murmured　the　girl；　striving
  so　hard　to　speak　with　impersonal　unconcern　that
  she　did　not　notice　the　inaptness　of　her　reply。
  ‘‘Eh？　　Sorry　I've　felt　better；　are　you？''
  retorted　Arkwright；　with　nervous　humor。　　Then；
  because　he　was　embarrassed；　he　said　the　one
  thing　he　had　meant　not　to　say：　　‘‘Don't　you　think
  I'm　quite　a　stranger？　　It's　been　some　time　since
  I've　been　here。''
  Alice；　smarting　under　the　sting　of　what　she
  judged　to　be　the　only　possible　cause　for　his
  embarrassment；　leaped　to　this　new　opportunity　to
  show　her　lack　of　interest。
  ‘‘Oh；　has　it？''　she　murmured　carelessly。
  ‘‘Well；　I　don't　know　but　it　has；　now　that　I　come
  to　think　of　it。''
  Arkwright　frowned　gloomily。　　A　week　ago　he
  would　have　tossed　back　a　laughingly　aggrieved
  remark　as　to　her　unflattering　indifference　to　his
  presence。　　Now　he　was　in　no　mood　for　such
  joking。　　It　was　too　serious　a　matter　with　him。
  ‘‘You've　been　busy；　no　doubt；　withother
  matters；''　he　presumed　forlornly；　thinking　of
  Calderwell。
  ‘‘Yes；　I　have　been　busy；''　assented　the　girl。
  ‘‘One　is　always　happier；　I　think；　to　be　busy。
  Not　that　I　meant　that　I　needed　the　work　to　_be_
  happy；''　she　added　hastily；　in　a　panic　lest　he
  think　she　had　a　consuming　sorrow　to　kill。
  ‘‘No；　of　course　not；''　he　murmured　abstractedly；
  rising　to　his　feet　and　crossing　the　room　to
  the　piano。　　Then；　with　an　elaborate　air　of　trying
  to　appear　very　natural；　he　asked　jovially：
  ‘‘Anything　new　to　play　to　me？''
  Alice　arose　at　once。
  ‘‘Yes。　　I　have　a　little　nocturne　that　I　was
  playing　to　Mr。　Calderwell　last　night。''
  ‘‘Oh；　to　Calderwell！''　Arkwright　had　stiffened
  perceptibly。
  ‘‘Yes。　　_He_　didn't　like　it。　　I'll　play　it　to　you
  and　see　what　you　say；''　she　smiled；　seating　herself
  at　the　piano。
  ‘‘Well；　if　he　had　liked　it；　it's　safe　to　say　I
  shouldn't；''　shrugged　Arkwright。
  ‘‘Nonsense！''　laughed　the　girl；　beginning　to
  appear　more　like　her　natural　self。　　‘‘I　should
  think　you　were　Mr。　Cyril　Henshaw！　　Mr。　Calderwell
  _is_　partial　to　ragtime；　I'll　admit。　　But　there
  are　some　good　things　he　likes。''
  ‘‘There　are；　indeed；　_some_　good　things　he　likes；''
  returned　Arkwright；　with　grim　emphasis；　his
  somber　eyes　fixed　on　what　he　believed　to　be　the
  one　especial　object　of　Calderwell's　affections　at
  the　moment。
  Alice；　unaware　both　of　the　melancholy　gaze
  bent　upon　herself　and　of　the　cause　thereof；
  laughed　again　merrily。
  ‘‘Poor　Mr。　Calderwell；''　she　cried；　as　she　let　her
  fingers　slide　into　soft；　introductory　chords。　　‘‘He
  isn't　to　blame　for　not　liking　what　he　calls　our　lost
  spirits　that　wail。　　It's　just　the　way　he's　made。''
  Arkwright　vouchsafed　no　reply。　　With　an
  abrupt　gesture　he　turned　and　began　to　pace　the
  room　moodily。　　At　the　piano　Alice　slipped　from
  the　chords　into　the　nocturne。　　She　played　it
  straight　through；　then；　with　a　charm　and　skill
  that　brought　Arkwright's　feet　to　a　pause　before
  it　was　half　finished。
  ‘‘By　George；　that's　great！''　he　breathed；　when
  the　last　tone　had　quivered　into　silence。
  ‘‘Yes；　isn't　itbeautiful？''　she　murmured。
  The　room　was　very　quiet；　and　in　semi…darkness。
  The　last　rays　of　a　late　June　sunset　had　been　filling
  the　room　with　golden　light；　but　it　was　gone　now。
  Even　at　the　piano　by　the　window；　Alice　had　barely
  been　able　to　see　clearly　enough　to　read　the　notes
  of　her　nocturne。
  To　Arkwright　the　air　still　trembled　with　the
  exquisite　melody　that　had　but　just　left　her　fingers。
  A　quick　fire　came　to　his　eyes。　　He　forgot　everything
  but　that　it　was　Alice　there　in　the　half…light
  by　the　windowAlice；　whom　he　loved。　　With　a
  low　cry　he　took　a　swift　step　toward　her。
  ‘‘Alice！''
  Instantly　the　girl　was　on　her　feet。　　But　it　was
  not　toward　him　that　she　turned。　　It　was　away
  resolutely；　and　with　a　haste　that　was　strangely
  like　terror。
  Alice；　too；　had　forgotten；　for　just　a　moment。
  She　had　let　herself　drift　into　a　dream　world　where
  there　was　nothing　but　the　music　she　was　playing
  and　the　man　she　loved。　　Then　the　music　had
  stopped；　and　the　man　had　spoken　her　name。
  Alice　remembered　then。　　She　remembered　Billy；
  whom　this　man　loved。　　She　remembered　the　long
  days　just　passed　when　this　man　had　stayed　away；
  presumably　to　teach　_her_to　save　_her_。　　And
  now；　at　the　sound　of　his　voice　speaking　her　name；
  she　had　almost　bared　her　heart　to　him。
  No　wonder　that　Alice；　with　a　haste　that　looked
  like　terror；　crossed　the　floor　and　flooded　the　room
  with　light。
  ‘‘Dear　me！''　she　shivered；　carefully　avoiding
  Arkwright's　eyes。　　‘‘If　Mr。　Calderwell　were　here
  now　he'd　have　some　excuse　to　talk　about　our　lost
  spirits　that　wail。　　That　_is_　a　creepy　piece　of　music
  when　you　play　it　in　the　dark！''　　And；　for　fear
  that　he　should　suspect　how　her　heart　was　aching；
  she　gave　a　particularly　brilliant　and　joyous　smile。
  Once　again　at　the　mention　of　Calderwell's　name
  Arkwright　stiffened　perceptibly。　　The　fire　left
  his　eyes。　　For　a　moment　he　did　not　speak；　then；
  gravely；　he　said：
  ‘‘Calderwell？　　Yes；　perhaps　he　would；　and
  you　ought　to　be　a　judge；　I　should　think。　　You　see
  him　quite　frequently；　don't　you？''
  ‘‘Why；　yes；　of　course。　　He　often　comes　out
  here；　you　know。''
  ‘‘Yes；　I　had　heard　that　he　didsince　_you_
  came。''
  His　meaning　was　unmistakable。　　Alice　looked
  up　quickly。　　A　prompt　denial　of　his　implication
  was　on　her　lips　when　the　thought　came　to　her
  that　perhaps　just　here　lay　a　sure　way　to　prove　to
  this　man　before　her　that　there　was；　indeed；　no
  need　for　him　to　teach　her；　to　save　her；　or　yet　to
  sympathize　with　her。　　She　could　not　affirm；　of
  course；　but　she　need　not　denyyet。
  ‘‘Nonsense！''　she　laughed　lightly；　pleased　that
  she　could　feel　what　she　hoped　would　pass　for　a
  telltale　color　burning　her　cheeks。　　‘‘Come；　let
  us　try　some　duets；''　she　proposed；　leading　the
  way　to　the　piano。　　And　Arkwright；　interpreting
  the　apparently　embarrassed　change　of　subject
  exactly　as　she　had　hoped　that　he　would　interpret
  it；　followed　her；　sick　at　heart。
  ‘‘　‘O　wert　thou　in　the　cauld　blast；'　''　sang
  Arkwright's　lips　a　few　moments　later。
  ‘‘I　can't　tell　her　nowwhen　I　_know_　she　cares
  for　Calderwell；''　gloomily　ran　his　thoughts；　the
  while。　　‘‘It　would　do　no　possible　good；　and　would
  only　make　her　unhappy　to　grieve　me。''
  ‘‘　‘O　wert　thou　in　the　cauld　blast；'　''　chimed
  in　Alice's　alto；　low　and　sweet。
  ‘‘I　reckon　now　he　won't　be　staying　away　from
  here　any　more　just　to　_save_　me！''　ran　Alice's
  thoughts；　palpitatingly　triumphant。
  CHAPTER　XXI
  BILLY　TAKES　HER　TURN　AT　QUESTIONING
  Arkwright　did　not　call　to　see　Alice　Greggory
  for　some　days。　　He　did　not　want　to　see　Alice　now。
  He　told　himself　wearily　that　she　could　not　help
  him　fight　this　tiger　skin　that　la