Somebody was playing Walther’s song from “Die Meistersinger” far downstairs, and the plaintive passionate notes drew Susan as if they had been the cry of her name.  She went down to find Emily and Peter Coleman laughing and flirting over a box of chocolates, at the inglenook seat in the hall, and Stephen Bocqueraz alone in the drawing-room, at the piano.  He stopped playing as she came in, and they walked to the fire and took opposite chairs beside the still brightly burning logs.

“Anything new?” he asked.

“Oh, lots!” Susan said wearily.  “I’ve seen Kenneth.  But they don’t know that I can’t—­can’t do it.  And they’re rather taking it for granted that I am going to!”

“Going to marry him!” he asked aghast.  “Surely you haven’t equivocated about it, Susan?” he asked sharply.

“Not with him!” she answered in quick self-defense, with a thrill for the authoritative tone.  “I went up there, tired as I am, and told him the absolute truth,” said Susan.  “But they may not know it!”

“I confess I don’t see why,” Bocqueraz said, in disapproval.  “It would seem to me simple enough to—–­”

“Oh, perhaps it does seem simple, to you!” Susan defended herself wearily, “but it isn’t so easy!  Ella is dreadful when she’s angry,—­ I don’t know quite what I will do, if this ends my being here—–­”

“Why should it?” he asked quickly.

“Because it’s that sort of a position.  I’m here as long as I’m wanted,” Susan said bitterly, “and when I’m not, there’ll be a hundred ways to end it all.  Ella will resent this, and Mrs. Saunders will resent it, and even if I was legally entitled to stay, it wouldn’t be very pleasant under those circumstances!” She rested her head against the curved back of her chair, and he saw tears slip between her lashes.

“Why, my darling!  My dearest little girl, you mustn’t cry!” he said, in distress.  “Come to the window and let’s get a breath of fresh air!”

He crossed to a French window, and held back the heavy curtain to let her step out to the wide side porch.  Susan’s hand held his tightly in the darkness, and he knew by the sound of her breathing that she was crying.

“I don’t know what made me go to pieces this way,” she said, after a moment.  “But it has been such a day!” And she composedly dried her eyes, and restored his handkerchief to him.

“You poor little girl!” he said tenderly. “—–­Is it going to be too cold out here for you, Sue?”

“No-o!” said Susan, smiling, “it’s heavenly!”

“Then we’ll talk.  And we must make the most of this too, for they may not give us another chance!  Cheer up, sweetheart, it’s only a short time now!  As you say, they’re going to resent the fact that my girl doesn’t jump at the chance to ally herself with all this splendor, and to-morrow may change things all about for every one of us.  Now, Sue, I told Ella to-day that I sail for Japan on Sunday—–­”