You'll spoil our friendship."
She did not wait longer. As he stretched out his hands to her, his face
had gone pale: she vanished through the doorway, and in forty-eight hours
was gone to her sick aunt. The autumn had come and the winter and the
spring, and the spring was almost gone when she returned; and, with her
return, Catastrophe lifted its head in the person of Denzil.
Perhaps it was imperative instinct that brought Junia back in an hour
coincident with Carnac's return--perhaps. In any case, there it was.
They had both returned, as it were, in the self-same hour, each having
endured a phase of emotion not easy to put on paper.
Denzil told her of Carnac's return, and she went to the house where
Carnac's mother lived, and was depressed at what she saw and felt. Mrs.
Grier's face was not that of one who had good news. The long arms almost
hurt when they embraced her. Yet Carnac was a subject of talk between
them--open, clear eyed talk. The woman did not know what to say, except
to praise her boy, and the girl asked questions cheerfully, unimportantly
as to sound, but with every nerve tingling. There was, however, so much
of the comedienne in her, so much coquetry, that only one who knew her
well could have seen the things that troubled her behind all. As though
to punish herself, she began to speak of Tarboe, and Mrs.
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