With the data Wayne had given her she worked out the main lines of the story during the night; but it was not until she had done so that its full significance appeared to her.  Having grasped that, she could scarcely wait for daylight in order to go to Evie, and yet when morning came she abandoned that course as impolitic.  Reflection showed her that her struggle must be less with Evie than with Ford, while she judged that he himself would lose no time in putting the battle in array.  He must see as plainly as she did that she stood like an army across his path, and that he must either retreat before her or show fight.  She believed he would do the latter and do it soon.  She thought it probable that he would appear that very day, and that her wisest plan was to await his opening attack.  The necessity, so unexpectedly laid upon her, of defending the right deflected her mind from dwelling too bitterly on her own disillusioning.

The morning having passed without a sign from him, she made her arrangements for having the afternoon undisturbed sending Wayne to drive, and ordering the servants to admit no one but Mr. Strange, should he chance to call.  Having intrenched herself behind the fortification of the tea-table, she waited.  In spite of her preoccupation, or rather because of it, she purposely read a book, forcing herself to fix her attention on its pages in order to have her mind free from preconceived notions as to how she must act and what she must say.  Her single concession to herself was to put on a new and becoming house dress, whose rich tones of brown and amber harmonized with her ivory coloring and emphasized the clear-cut distinction of her features.  Before taking up her position she surveyed herself with the mournful approval which the warrior about to fall may give to the perfection of his equipment.

It was half-past four when the servant showed him in.  His formal attire seemed to her, as he crossed the room, oddly civilized and correct after her recollections of him.  Notwithstanding her dread of the opening minutes, the meeting passed off according to the fixed procedure of the drawing-room.  It was a relief to both to find that the acts of shaking hands and sitting down had been accomplished with matter-of-course formality.  With the familiar support of afternoon-call conventions difficult topics could be treated at greater ease.

“I’m very glad to find you at home,” he began, feeling it to be a safe opening.  “I was almost afraid—­”

“I stayed in on purpose,” she said, frankly.  “I thought you might come.”

“I wasn’t sure whether or not you knew me last night—­”

“I didn’t at first.  I really hadn’t noticed you, though I remembered afterward that you were standing with Mrs. Endsleigh Jarrott when Mr. Wayne and I came into the room.  I wonder now if you recognized me?”

“Oh, rather!  I knew you were going to be there.  I’ve been in New York a month.”