Young Haight was with Turner Ravis as much as possible during the evening, very happy and excited.  Something had happened; it was impossible for him to say precisely what, for on the face of things Turner was the same as ever.  Nothing in her speech or actions was different, but there was in her manner, in the very air that surrounded her, something elusive and subtle that set him all in a tremor.  There was a change in his favour; he felt that she liked to have him with her and that she was trying to have him feel as much in some mysterious way of her own.  He could see, however, that she was hardly conscious of doing this and that the change was more apparent to his eyes than it was to hers.

“Must you really go home now?” he said, as Turner began to talk of leaving, soon after supper.  They had been sitting out the dance under a palm at the angle of the stairs.

“Yes,” answered Turner; “Howard has the measles and I promised to be home early.  Delphine was to come for me and she ought to be here now.”

“Delphine?” exclaimed young Haight.  “Didn’t you come with Van?”

“No,” answered Turner quietly.  Only by her manner, and by something in the way she said the word, Haight knew at once that she had broken definitely with Vandover.  The talk he had had with her at her house came back to him on the instant.  He hesitated a moment and then asked: 

“There is something wrong?  Has Van done anything—­never mind, I don’t mean that; it’s no business of mine, I suppose.  But I know you care for him.  I’m sorry if—­”

But he was not sorry.  Try as he would, his heart was leaping in him for joy.  With Vandover out of the way, he knew that all would be different; Turner herself had said so.

“Oh, everything is wrong,” said Turner, with tears in her eyes.  “I have been so disappointed in Van; oh, terribly disappointed.”

“I know; yes, I think I know what you mean,” answered young Haight in a low voice.

“Oh, please don’t let’s talk about it at all,” cried Turner.  But young Haight could not stop now.

“Is Van really out of the question, then?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she exclaimed, not seeing what he was coming to.  “Oh, yes; how could I—­how could I care for him after—­after what has happened?”

Very much embarrassed, young Haight went on:  “I know it’s unfair to take advantage of you now, but do you remember what you said once?  That if Vandover were out of the question, that ’perhaps’ you might—­that it would be—­that there might be a chance for me?”

Turner was silent for a long time, and then she said:  “Yes, I remember.”

“Well, how about that now?” asked young Haight with a nervous laugh.

“Ah,” answered Turner, “how do I know—­so soon!”

“But what do you think, Turner?” he persisted.

“But I haven’t thought at all,” she returned.