Terribly bewildered and puzzled with regard to her own identity, Ethie sat down to Richard's table, in Richard's house, and partook of Richard's food, with a strange feeling of quiet, and a constantly increasing sensation of numbness and bewilderment.

Access to the house had been easier than she fancied; but she could not help feeling that she had no right to be there, no claim on Richard's hospitality.

Certainly she had none, if what she had heard at Clifton were true.

But was it?
There was some doubt creeping into her mind, though why Richard should wish to build so large and so fine a house just for himself alone she could not understand.

She never guessed how every part of that dwelling had been planned with a direct reference to her and her tastes; that not a curtain, or a carpet, or a picture had been purchased without Melinda's having said she believed Ethie would approve it.