Waymark had watched her face as closely as she did
his, and he was able to read pretty accurately what was passing in
her mind. Curiosity, it was clear, was her main incentive. Good will
there was none; its growth, if at all possible, would depend upon
Ida herself. There was even something very like a gleam of hate in
her dark eyes when Ida's name was first spoken.
"When may I bring her!" Waymark asked. "Perhaps you would like to
talk it over with Julian first? By-the-by, perhaps he remembers her
as your schoolfellow?"
"I don't know, I'm sure," she said, with a pretence of indifference.
"I don't see what he can have to say against it. Bring her as soon
as you like."
"She is not free till seven at night. Perhaps we had better leave it
till next Sunday?"
"Why? Why couldn't she come to-morrow night?"
"It is very good of you. I have no doubt she would be glad."
With this understanding Waymark took his departure.
"Do you remember Ida Starr?" was Harriet's first question to her
husband when he returned that evening.
"Certainly I do," replied Julian, with complete self-control. "Why?"
"When did you see her last?" followed quickly, whilst she examined
him as keenly as she had done Waymark.
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