Still she refused to believe. Even in the face of overwhelming evidence she clung to her unreasoning faith in him.
Suppose he had stolen the gems and fled with them from Long Island? Suppose he had lost his bearings in the fog; tossed aimlessly on the sea for a day and a night; and then run aground at her doorstep? It was possible, quite possible, even probable.
Not for a man like Stanley Heath. Marcia stubbornly insisted. So deep was the conviction, she shrank lest he should feel called upon to justify or defend himself.
Far from demanding explanations, she resolved she would give him no chance to make them.
Therefore, when his meal was ready and every last inviting touch had been given the tray, she said casually to Sylvia:
"Not at all. I just thought perhaps you'd rather."
"I want to stir the Newburg and see it doesn't catch," she explained, avoiding the girl's eyes. "We are too hungry to risk having our dinner spoiled. You might just wait and cut the chops for Mr. Heath and fix his potato. Find out, too, if there is anything more he wants. You needn't hurry back. I'll keep things hot."
The task suggested did not, apparently, displease Sylvia.
She dimpled and sauntering to the mirror, she glanced in giving her mass of golden curls a feminine poke. She even slipped a vanity-case from her pocket and powdered her wee, up-tilted nose.
"We may as well look our best," laughed she over her shoulder.
"Perhaps I might take off my smock and go up in my dark dress."
"I wouldn't. The smock is gay and suits you. Invalids need cheering up."
"So they do," agreed Sylvia demurely, now quite self-possessed.
A flutter of anticipation had put a sparkle into her eyes and faint color into her cheeks. She looked bewilderingly pretty.
"Here goes Red-Ridinghood," she murmured, taking up the tray. "All is, if I don't come back, you'll know the wolf has eaten me."
She opened the door and stood watching while the girl ascended the stairs, for the hall was unlighted and the tray heavy.
"I'm safe," called a merry voice from the topmost stair.
Marcia came back into the kitchen. She finished preparing the lobster, straightened the silver on the table, let in Prince Hal who came bounding to her side, picked a few dead blossoms from the geraniums, and sat down to wait.