Well--" He picked up his old felt hat and absently turned down the
brim; it was raining. "I'll have to get back. I've overstayed my
lunch hour as it is."
"You haven't had any luncheon?"
"I wasn't hungry," he had said, and had gone away, his coat collar
turned up against the shower. Lily had had a presentiment that he
was taking himself out of her life, that he had given her up as a
bad job. She felt depressed and lonely, and not quite so sure of
herself as she had been; rather, although she did not put it that
way, as though something fine had passed her way, like Pippa singing,
and had then gone on.
She settled down as well as she could to her new life, making no
plans, however, and always with the stricken feeling that she had
gained her own point at the cost of much suffering. She telephoned
to her mother daily, broken little conversations with long pauses
while Grace steadied her voice. Once her mother hung up the
receiver hastily, and Lily guessed that her grandfather had come in.
She felt very bitter toward him.
But she found the small oneage interesting, in a quiet way; to make
her own bed and mend her stockings--Grace had sent her a trunkful
of clothing; and on the elderly maid's afternoon out, to help
Elinor with the supper.
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