FIDELIA was brushing her hair beside an open window where the sun streamed in. It was an August sun, clear and hot and ten o'clock high in a turquoise sky. The lake under her window reflected the lucent blue and tinged it with a tint like the pale jade of the bracelet upon her arm. She slipped off the circlet of polished stone and held it before the water to compare the colors. She sang quietly as she resumed her brushing of her hair. David had gone to the office more than an hour ago, leaving her alone.
This room of hers high above the water and with wide, pleasant windows to the east and south was a particularly delightful "living-room" with its soft, blue rug and big, blue lounge, with pretty table and a desk and chairs painted that hue of gray which is gay and made more cheerful by little lines and designs in brighter color. There were bookshelves and books, a parchment-shaded lamp and a small, beautiful grand piano which was open. It was always open and with music on the rack. A dozen times a day Fidelia slipped into the piano seat and played; she loved to play but not to practice.
Beyond the blue Japanese screen before the doorway was a white and blue bath where also the sun
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