"Don't you see my dreadful position? I suspect you, misjudge you--wrong you at every step--and all the time you are doing a thing so fine--so generous and splendid--that I am humiliated--to--" Once again she saw that painful transformation in his face: a difficult dull-red flood sweeping over it, only to recede instantly, leaving him white from neck to brow. "What is the use of talking in this way?" he asked peremptorily. "What is the good of it, I say? The matter is over and done with. Everything is all right--his telling you wipes it all from the slate, just as I said. Don't you see that? Well, can't you dismiss the whole incident from your mind and forget that it ever happened?" "I will try--if that is what you wish." She turned away, utterly disappointed and disconcerted by his summary disposal of the burning topic over which she had planned such a long and satisfying discussion. He started to say something, checked himself, and said something entirely different. "I have received your note," he began directly, "asking me to come in and see you about the matter of difference between the estates. That is why I have called. I trust that this means that you are going to be sensible and take your money." "In a way--yes. I will tell you--what I have thought." "Well, sit down to tell me please. You look tired; not well at all. Not in the least. Take this comfortable chair." Obediently she sat down in Mr. Dayne's high-backed swivel-chair, which, when she leaned back, let her neat-shod little feet swing clear of the floor. The chair was a happy thought; it steadied her; so did his unexampled solicitousness, which showed, she thought, that her emotion had not escaped him. "I have decided that I would take it," said she, "with a--a--sort of condition." Sitting in the chair placed for Mr. Dayne's callers, the young man showed instant signs of disapprobation. "No, no! You are big enough to accept your own without conditions." "Oh--you won't argue with me about that, will you? Perhaps it is unreasonable, but I could never be satisfied to take it--and spend it for myself. I could never have any pleasure in it--never feel that it was really mine. So," she hurried on, "I thought that it would be nice to take it--and give it away." "Give it away!" he echoed, astonished and displeased. "Yes--give it to the State. I thought I should like to give it to--establish a reformatory." Their eyes met. Upon his candid face she could watch the subtler meanings of her idea slowly sinking into and taking hold of his consciousness. "No--no!" came from him, explosively. "No! You must not think of such a thing." "Yes--I have quite made up my mind. When the idea came to me it was like an inspiration. It seemed to me the perfect use to make of this money. Don't you see?... And--"