A minute later the rumble of a car was heard.
"If he thinks he can talk to me the way he did," said Helen, more indignant than before, "and then come around here like that--serenading you--!" "Oh, Helen, don't," said Mary, trembling.

"...I think he was saying good-bye....

Wait till I put the light on...." The distress in her voice cheeked Helen's anger, and a moment later the two cousins were staring at each other, two tragic figures suddenly uncovered from the mantle of light.
"I won't go back to my room; I'll stay here," whispered Helen at last.
"Don't fret, Mary; he won't do anything." It was a long time, though, before Mary could stop trembling, but an hour later when the telephone bell began ringing downstairs, she found that her old habit of calmness had fallen on her again.
"I'll answer it," she said to Helen.

"Don't cry now.

I'm sure it's nothing." But when she returned in a few minutes, Helen only needed one glance to tell her how far it was from being nothing.
"Your maid," said Mary, hurrying to her dresser.