The fourth meal is Nancy's and it doesn't seem very happy. When it is
over and Mr. Ellicott has rustled himself away from intrusion behind the
evening paper.
“Nobody--'phoned today--did they, mother?”
“No, dear.” The voice is not as easy as it might be, but Nancy does not
notice.
“Oh.”
Nor does Nancy notice how hurriedly her mother's next question comes.
“Did you see Mrs. Winters, darling?”
“Oh yes--I saw her.”
“And you're going on to New York?”
“Yes--next week, I think.”
“With her. And going to stay with her?”
“I suppose so.”
Mrs. Ellicott sighs relievedly.
“That's so nice.”
Nancy will be safe now--as safe as if she were under an anesthetic. Mrs.
Winters will take care of that. She must have a little talk with dear
Isabella Winters. But that night Nancy is alone in her room--doing up
her engagement ring and Oliver's letters in a wobbly package. She is not
quite just, though, she keeps one letter--the first.