Jerrie went on very rapidly toward home, almost running at times, and not at all conscious of the absence of her parasol, or that the noonday sun was beating hot upon her head, conscious only of a bitter feeling of pain and vexation, the latter that she had allowed herself to speak so angrily to Tom, and of pain because of what he had said to her of Maude and Harold.  Do what she might, she could not forget the tone of Harold’s voice, or the look in his eyes when he bade her good-bye that morning, or that his whole manner since her return had been more like that of a lover than of a brother.  And still there was that little throb of jealousy tugging at her heart-strings, notwithstanding that he had said to herself in substance not more than an hour before that she believed she could give Harold to Maude, whose love for him she could not doubt.

‘And I’ll do it now,’ she said, at last, to herself.  ’I’ll fight it down, this something which makes me hate myself.  If Harold loves Maude he shall never know from me of that horrible pain which cuts me like a knife and makes me forget to be indignant at Tom for talking so much of his money and his position, as if they could buy me!  Poor Tom!  I said some sharp things to him, but he deserved them, the prig!  Let him marry that governor’s daughter if he can.  I am sure I wish him success.’

She had reached home by this time, and found their simple dinner waiting for her.  ‘Oh, grandma, why did you do it?  Why didn’t you wait for me?’ she said, as she took her seat at the table where the dishes were all so plain, and the cloth, though white and clean, so coarse and cheap.

Jerrie was as fond of luxury and elegance as any one, and Tracy Park, with its appurtenances, would have suited her taste better than the cottage.

‘But not with Tom, not with Tom,’ she kept on repeating to herself, as she cleared the table and washed the dishes, and then brought in and folded the clothes for the morrow’s ironing.

By this time she was very tired, and going to her cool, pretty room, she threw herself upon the lounge and slept soundly for three hours or more.  Sleep is a wonderful tonic, and Jerrie rose refreshed and quite herself again.  Not even a thought of Maude and Harold disturbed her as she went whistling and singing around her room, hanging up her dresses one by one, and wondering which she should wear at the garden party.  Deciding at last upon a simple white muslin, which, although two years old, was still in fashion, and very becoming, she arranged her wavy hair in a fluffy mass at the back of her head, brushed her bangs into short, soft curls upon her forehead, pinned a cluster of roses on the bosom of her dress, and was ready for the party.

’Tell Harold, if he is not too tired, I want him very much to come for me,’ she said, to Mrs. Crawford, and then about five o’clock started for Grassy Spring, where she found the guests all assembled in the pleasant, shady grounds, which surrounded the house.