Her dress told me that her trunks had come-she had sent for her trunks! "Mother and father are here," said she, without looking at me.
I followed her into the drawing room and, for the benefit of the servants, Mr. and Mrs.
Ellersly and I greeted each other courteously, though Mrs. Ellersly's eyes and mine met in a glance like the flash of steel on steel. "We were just going," said she, and then I felt that I had arrived in the midst of a tempest of uncommon fury.
"You must stop and make me a visit," protested I, with elaborate politeness. To myself I was assuming that they had come to "make up and be friends"-and resume their places at the trough.
"I wish we could," she answered, in her best manner.
And she was moving toward the door, the old man in her wake. Neither of them offered to shake hands with me; neither made pretense of saying good-by to Anita, standing by the window like a pillar of ice. I had closed the drawing-room door behind me, as I entered.
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