"Is it about--about Harry Green?" "Yes. You see, dear, he--he doesn't know I'm married." "Goodness, Agatha! You don't mean he--he still thinks you are engaged to marry him?" "That's just it, Betty. I didn't tell him--in fact, I had forgotten all about him, away down there in Patagonia, wherever it is. He--" "And, oh, he was so terribly in love with you--and you with him, too!" "No, no; don't say that. It was so foolish. Besides, he's been gone nearly three years. How could he expect me to wait all that time? I haven't had a letter from him for more than a year. I counted it up today." "Does Jimmy Cannable know about--him?" "I don't know and I'm afraid to ask." "Harry's a frightfully determined person," mused Betty Carrithers reflectively. "He swore I should be his wife if we waited a thousand years." "That's the one thing in your favour. When they swear such things as that they can't possibly mean all they say," said Miss Betty sagely. She was the prettiest and most popular girl in town, but she was a wise body for all that. Her trim little figure was surcharged with a magnetism that thrilled one to the very core; her brown eyes danced ruthlessly through one's most stubborn defences; her smile and her frown were the thermometers by which masculine emotions could be gauged at a glance. "It will be rather difficult to face him, won't it?" "Betty, it's simply impossible! Think of Harry Green waiting all these years, believing in me, as constant as the sun--and then to find I've married some one else. You know I love Jimmy Cannable with all my heart. I can't bear the thought of what might happen if he and Harry quarrelled about--about those old days." "Don't cry--don't be a goose! It's the commonest thing in the world. Every girl has had dozens of affairs." "I know, but not just like this one. My husband wants to take me to California. I wish--oh, how I wish I could go! But Harry would follow--I know he'll be merciless." Miss Carrithers was thoughtful for several minutes, paying slight heed to the doleful sobs from the bed. "I'll tell you what, Agatha," she said at last; "I believe this affair can be managed easily enough if you will just leave town." "Oh, Betty!" sitting up and looking at her friend hopefully. "Of course, I never had a chance at Harry Green. You monopolised him. I liked him immensely--from a distance. You go away, and let me explain the situation to him." It was the straw that the drowning person grasps, and Mrs. Cannable clutched it with a shriek of delight. She poured her story into the ears of her too loyal friend, who smiled confidently in response to her apprehensions.