Kathryn Morris, as the days of Northrup's absence stretched into weeks, grew more and more restless. She began to do some serious thinking, and while this developed her mentally, the growing pains hurt and she became twisted.
Heretofore she had been borne along on a peaceful current. She was young and pretty and believed that everyone saw her as she wanted them to see her--a charming, an unusually charming girl.
People had always responded to her slightest whim, but suddenly her own particular quarry had eluded her; did not even pine for her; was able to keep silent while he left her and his mother to think what they chose.
At this moment Kathryn placed herself beside Helen Northrup as a timid débutante shrinks beside her chaperon.
"And that old beast"--Kathryn in the privacy of her bedchamber could speak quite openly to herself--"that old beast, Doctor Manly, suggested that at forty I might be fat if----" Well, it didn't matter about the "if." Kathryn did a bit of mental arithmetic, using her fingers to aid her. What was the difference between twenty-four and forty? The difference seemed terrifyingly _little_. "A fat forty! Oh, good Lord!"
Kathryn was in bed and it was nine-thirty in the morning! She sprang out and looked at herself in the mirror.
"Well, my body hasn't found it out yet!" she whispered, and her pretty white teeth showed complacently.
Then she sat down in a deep chair and took account of stock. That "fat-forty" was a mere panic. She would not think of it--but it loomed, nevertheless.
Of course, for the time being, there was Sandy Arnold on the crest of one of his financial waves.
Kathryn was level-headed enough not to lose sight of receding waves but then, on the other hand, the crest of a receding wave was better than to be left on the sands--fat and forty! And Northrup was displaying dangerous traits. A distinct chill shook Kathryn.
She turned her thought to Northrup. Northrup had seemed safe. He belonged to all that was familiar to her. He would be famous some day--that she might interfere with this never occurred to the girl. She simply saw herself in a gorgeous studio pouring tea or dancing, and all the people paying court to her while knowing that they ought to be paying it to Northrup.