He entered the house, a prey to conflicting emotions, perplexed, angry, inclined to laugh, with alternate flashes of hope and as sudden relapses into despair. Just as he had made up his mind that she had left for the night, she reappeared without a trace of concern. But try as he might he did not succeed in getting another opportunity to speak to her. She avoided him with a settled cold antagonism. The next day it was the same. It seemed that everything she did was calculated to wound him and display her hostility. He had neither the strength nor the wisdom to respond with indifference, suffering openly. At ten o'clock that night as he was miserably preparing to enter the automobile that was to take him to the station, Patsie came hurriedly down the steps, something white in her hand. "Please do something for me," she said breathlessly. "What is it?" "A letter-- I want you to mail this letter--it's important." He turned, taking the letter and putting it in his pocket without noticing it. She held out her hand. Surprised, he took it, yet without relenting. "Good-by, Bojo," she said softly. The next moment he was whirled away. When he reached the Court he remembered for the first time his commission and, stopping at the desk, he handed the letter absent-mindedly to Della, saying, "If you're going out, Della, mail this." She burst out laughing, with her irresistible Irish smile. "What are you laughing at?" he said, surprised. "You're always up to tricks, Mr. Crocker," she said, looking at the inscription. "What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled, and, perceiving the cause of her merriment, he snatched the envelope and glanced at it. It was addressed to him. Covered with confusion he fled up to his room in a fever of anticipation and wild hope. Dear Bojo: Forgive me for being a horrid, spiteful little cat. I am sorry but you are very stupid--_very_! Please forgive me. PATSIE. P.S. As soon as the wedding is over, we come to New York. Will you come and see me there--and I'll promise to behave. DRINA. He went to bed in the seventh heaven of delight, repeating to himself a hundred times every word of this letter, turning each phrase over and over for favorable interpretation. It seemed to him that never had he spent such deliciously happy days as the last two. CHAPTER XXIV. PATSIE APPEALS FOR HELP Meanwhile Fred and Louise returned. He went to see them at a fashionable hotel where they were staying temporarily. The great rooms and the large salon on the corner, overlooking the serried flight of houses and factories toward the river must have cost at least fifteen dollars a day. Louise went into the bedroom presently to her hairdresser, closing the door. "Congratulations, Prince," said Bojo laughing, but with a certain intention to approach serious matters. "The royal suite is charming."