"I, too, have been happy," she said to him.

Then, with a vain effort to seem and to believe herself at ease, "I wish Dory could have been along." But Ross was not abashed by the exorcism of that name; her bringing it in was too strained, would have been amusing if passion were not devoid of the sense of humor.

"She _does_ care for me!" he was thinking dizzily.
"And I can't live without her--and _won't_!" His mother had been writing him her discoveries that his father, in wretched health and goaded by physical torment to furious play at the green tables of "high finance," was losing steadily, swiftly, heavily.
But Ross read her letters as indifferently as he read Theresa's appeals to him to come to Windrift.

It took a telegram--"Matters much worse than I thought.

You must be here to talk with him before he begins business to-morrow"-- to shock him into the realization that he had been imperiling the future he was dreaming of and planning--his and Del's future.
On the way to the train he stopped at the Villa d'Orsay, saw her and Henrietta at the far end of Mrs.Dorsey's famed white-and-gold garden.
Henrietta was in the pavilion reading.