"Pardon me if I do not see that you have any right to ask me such a question." "Why, I came to ask Mr. Fairfield for May's letters because she is engaged to you, and he told me--" She broke off, her habitual self-control being evidently tried almost beyond its limit. "I took the liberty, Jack," spoke up Fairfield, "of saying--" "Don't apologize," Neligage said. "It is true, Miss Endicott, that circumstances have arisen which make it best for May to break the engagement. I shall be obliged to you, however, if you don't mention the matter to her until she brings it up." Alice looked at him appealingly. "But I thought--" "We are none of us accountable for our thoughts, Miss Endicott, nor perhaps for a want of faith in our friends." She moved toward him with a look of so much appeal that Dick discreetly turned his back under pretense of looking for something on his writing-table. "At least," she said, her voice lower than usual, "you will let me apologize for the way in which I spoke to you the other morning." "Oh, don't mention it," he returned carelessly. "You were quite justified." He turned away with easy nonchalance, as if the matter were one in which he had no possible interest. "At least," she begged, "you'll pardon me, and shake hands." "Oh, certainly, if you like," answered he; "but it doesn't seem necessary." Her manner changed in the twinkling of an eye. Indignation shone in her face and her head was carried more proudly. "Then it isn't," she said. "Good-morning, Mr. Fairfield." She went from the room as quickly as a shadow flits before sunlight. The two young men were so taken by surprise that by the time Dick reached the door to open it for his departing caller, it had already closed behind her. The friends stared a moment. Then Jack made a swift stride to the door; but when he flung it open the hall without was empty. "Damn it, Dick," he ejaculated, coming back with a face of anger, "what did you let her go off like that for?" "How in the world could I help it?" was all that his friend could answer. Jack regarded Dick blackly for the fraction of a second; then he burst into a laugh, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I beg your pardon, old man," he said, as cheerily as ever. "I'm going off my nerve with all these carryings on. If you hadn't written that rotten old novel of yours, we shouldn't have had these continual circuses."