Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/267

Rh "Did father ever hate Ed Munn?"

"Like fury," laughed Stella; "and there was never any sense in it either—no more than with you—just a whim."

Laurel still gazing at the moon and the few far dim stars that seemed to He beyond was silent. Was Alfred Munn one of the pieces of the puzzle, too?

and Stephen were quietly married one afternoon the following spring. The same day Laurel received a note from Mrs. Morrison inviting her to spend a week-end with her, a fortnight later. The invitation did not come as a surprise to Laurel. Mrs. Morrison had told her last September that she hoped to have Laurel stay with her for a few days in the spring. Laurel had told her mother of the possibility. Stella had been working on Laurel's wardrobe, in preparation, for weeks before Mrs. Morrison's note arrived.

Helen was at the station to meet Laurel. She and Mrs. Morrison (she was still Mrs. Morrison to Laurel) were quite alone in the back of the limousine as it threaded its way out of the congestion of Forty-Second Street, and turned north on Fifth Avenue. Laurel sat forward on the edge of the seat beside Helen, cheeks flushed, chin raised, breathing in deep breaths of the intoxicating, Mrs. Morrison-charged air, not saying anything at all.

"Glad to be here?" finally Helen interrupted from her deep corner.

Laurel simply nodded, keeping her starry eyes