“I’ve not been in Sausalito, except once, for eight years,” Julia said reflectively.

“I know you’ve not.  Well, we’ll go to-morrow.”  Miss Toland reached for a cigarette; yawned as she lighted it.  But Julia’s heart began to beat fast in nervous anticipation.

Mrs. Toland received them very graciously the next day, and Julia was at once made to feel at home in the pretty house, which was littered charmingly to-day with all sorts of Christmas gifts, and bright with open fires.  Barbara was there, and the crippled Richie, but Sally had gone to a Christmas concert with her devoted little squire, Keith Borroughs, and Mrs. Toland presently took Miss Sanna aside for a long, distressed confidence.  Theodora, it seemed, had had a stormy argument with her father on the subject of her admirer, Robert Carleton, some days before, and yesterday had left, in defiance of all authority, to meet him for a walk, and lunch with him.  She and her father had not spoken to each other since, and Ted was keeping her room.  Julia met Ned’s wife, a pretentious, complacent little gabbling village belle, and was dragged about by the younger sisters to look at everybody’s presents.

“Must be a long time since we saw you here, Miss Page?” said the old doctor, smiling at her over his glasses, as he carved at luncheon.

“I was here two years ago, one afternoon,” Julia smiled.  “But I think I haven’t seen you since ’The Amazons’—­eight years ago!”

“Eight years!” Barbara said, struck.  “Mother, do you realize that it is eight years since I was in that play with the Hazzards and Gray Babcock and the Grinells?  Isn’t that awful?” She fell into sombre thought.

Julia went through the day in a sort of deep study.  This was the enchanted castle that had stood to her for so long as the unattainable height of dreams; these were the envied inhabitants of that castle.  Everything was the same, except herself, yet how incredibly the change in her affected everything about her!  She was at home here now, could answer the table pleasantries with her ready, grave smile, could feel that her interest in Constance and Jane was a pleasure to them, or could pick a book from the drawing-room table with the confidence that what she said of it would not be ridiculous.  She could even feel herself happier than Barbara, who listened so closely to what Julia said of the settlement house, and sighed as she listened.

After luncheon Richie took her driving over cold country roads, behind a big-boned gray mare, and adored her, though she never dreamed it, because she neither offered to take the reins nor asked him at intervals if his back was tired.  He was finishing work at the school of medicine now, and although he could never hope to be in regular practice, his thin, bony face was very bright as he outlined his plans.  Julia listened to him sympathetically, and said good-bye to him at the boat with a sense of genuine liking on both sides.  Miss Toland was waiting for her on the upper deck, her long nose nipped and red in the cold air.