CHAPTER XVIt was half past six when Emily Dillon entered the door, and Harriet Granniss was just sitting down to a solitary meal.
“Well, you decided to come home at last, did you?” she said, with an acrid smile. “It is a wonder you didn’t take dinner in town somewhere and make an evening of it.”
Emily Dillon smiled without the usual meek apology in her face.
“I was detained,” she said, in a business-like tone. “I expected to make the five-thirty. I am sorry to have held back supper, but I had just time to get on this train without waiting to phone for you to go on and eat. I wish you would never wait for me when I am late.”
“Well, everything’s stone cold by this time,” Harriet answered, haughtily. “Perhaps you enjoy cold muffins; I don’t! But I’m not one to sit down and gorge myself al
