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Updated: June 3, 2025
Hayden's mind went back to that telegram which had been handed Mademoiselle Mariposa at the luncheon the day before, the telegram from the mysterious man, a message of interest to both Ydo and Marcia. Could that have anything to do with Marcia's present state of mind?
Ames picked up her gloves and rose. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's all Greek to me," with her strident cackle, "but this I do know, Hurlburt Hammerton and that is she'll get ahead of you, this Gipsy girl. Never doubt that." Marcia had grown slightly paler during the conversation, and now she turned surprised, almost frightened, yes, frightened eyes from Hayden to Ydo.
He felt convinced that this was the man who had sent Ydo the telegram the day before, for Ydo knew him. Had he, Robert, not seen him at her apartment? The demon of jealousy began its diabolical whisperings, a mist seemed to float before Hayden's eyes; but with all the strength of his nature, he refused to listen.
You remember he sang all summer while the ants toiled unceasingly getting in their winter stores, and then when winter came, and he pined with hunger, the thrifty ants said: 'Do you not know that winter follows summer, and that all roads lead to the desert?" Ydo leaned forward all aggression and animation. "But that is a wicked fable," she cried, "for it tells only one side of the question.
He could hardly say what was the matter. Everything had gone without a hitch; that is, until staid old Ames had so hopelessly forgotten himself. The dinner was perfect, the decorations were beautiful, the small group of congenial people had seemed to enjoy themselves immensely, and best of all, Ydo had brought him the wonderful news that his period of suspense and waiting was practically over.
"What is so awfully funny?" inquired Hayden politely, but with an irritation he could not conceal. "I assure you, it does not seem funny to me." Ydo had evidently recovered her spirits; the sparkle had come back to her eyes, the color to her cheeks. "Don't bother any more," she counseled blithely. "It's all going to turn out right now. You see." "I should prefer to know how."
'To get the most out of life' is a horrible phrase. Life offers nothing to those who seek her thus; but to all who ask little of her, who stand ready and glad to give, she repays an hundredfold." "What a preacher you are," he laughed. Before Ydo could answer, the maid entered with a card and handed it to her.
Why, that was Ydo's name. Ydo Carrothers." Hayden huddled down into his chair. He could not think. His brain, his dazed and miserable brain had received too many impressions. They had crowded upon him and he could not take them in. Penfield was talking, talking straight ahead, but although Robert heard the words, they conveyed no meaning to him.
She glanced toward the imperturbable, lazy, blond giant, who sat talking to Marcia, but always with his eyes fixed on Ydo, content merely to be in her presence. Then she lifted her round chin audaciously, "If I decide to let him come with me, he will be well content. He hates cities and loves the open. He will be an excellent camerado, I assure you.
Hayden would never again be nearer losing his temper completely than he was at this moment, for Ydo, after gazing at him for a moment with a sort of whimsical, mock seriousness, again broke into laughter. "Who would ever have dreamed of her doing such a thing?" she apostrophized the ceiling. "Her!"
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