Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/252

242 cloud that drifted about the left side of her brow and reached backward to the still dark coil in her neck)—it was something more convincing, something less obvious but deeper-rooted. There was on Helen's face a look of settled calm (or was it settled hopelessness?) that hadn't been there four years ago when she had rushed out of the long window down the lawn to meet Stephen and Laurel. There had been laughter and anticipation in her eyes then. Now there were only quiet smiles and submission.

To-day, again, Helen was awaiting the arrival of an automobile. She had sent the car down to the station to meet the train due at ten-forty. It was now after eleven. It was only five minutes to the station. The train must be late. She finished her letter, then rose, crossed the room, and stood looking out of another long window that opened out upon the terrace. Helen was awaiting the arrival of Laurel's mother, of Stephen's wife. She had telephoned last night from New York.

"I'm Mrs. Stephen Dallas," the strange voice had announced. "I want to talk with you. Will you be home to-morrow morning if I come out?"

Helen had replied, with no surprise in her voice, that she would be glad to come in town and meet her there if she preferred.

"No. I'd rather come out."

They had arranged the trains. Helen had told her she would have her met.

When finally the bell rang, and the maid announced Mrs. Dallas, Helen crossed the hall to the reception-room with a sensation as near dread as