"I'm thinking of closing the theatre myself," said Carroll. "What's the use of my hanging on here?" he exclaimed. "It distresses Helen to know I am in London, feeling about her as I do—and the Lord only knows how it distresses me. And, maybe if I went away," he said, consciously, "she might miss me. She might see the difference." [Illustration: Helen sat ... deeply considering this new point of view.—Page 139.] [Illustration: He was evidently amused.] Miss Cavendish held herself erect and pressed her lips together with a severe smile. "If Helen Cabot doesn't see the difference between you and the other men she knows now," she said, "I doubt if she ever will. Besides," she continued, and then hesitated. "Well, go on," urged Carroll. "Well, I was only going to say," she explained, "that leaving the girl alone never did the man any good unless he left her alone willingly. If she's sure he still cares, it's just the same to her where he is. He might as well stay on in London as to go to South Africa. It won't help him any. The difference comes when she finds he has stopped caring. Why, look at Reggie. He tried that. He went away for ever so long, but he kept writing me from wherever he went, so that he was perfectly miserable—and I went on enjoying myself. Then when he came back, he tried going about with his old friends again. He used to come to the theatre with them—oh, with such nice girls—but he always stood in the back of the box and yawned and scowled—so I knew. And, anyway, he'd always spoil it all by leaving them and waiting at the stage entrance for me. But one day he got tired of the way I treated him and went off on a bicycle tour with Lady Hacksher's girls, and some men from his regiment, and he was gone three weeks and never sent me even a line; and I got so scared; I couldn't sleep, and I stood it for three days more, and then I wired him to come back or I'd jump off London Bridge; and he came back that very night from Edinburgh on the express, and I was so glad to see him that I got confused, and in the general excitement I promised to marry him, so that's how it was with us." "Yes," said the American, without enthusiasm; "but then I still care, and Helen knows I care." "Doesn't she ever fancy that you might care for someone else? You have a lot of friends, you know." "Yes, but she knows they are just that—friends," said the American. Miss Cavendish stood up to go, and arranged her veil before the mirror above the fire-place. "I come here very often to tea," she said. "It's very kind of you," said Carroll. He was at the open window, looking down into the street for a cab. "Well, no one knows I am engaged to Reggie," continued Miss Cavendish, "except you and Reggie, and he isn't so sure. _She_ doesn't know it." "Well?" said Carroll. Miss Cavendish smiled a mischievous, kindly smile at him from the mirror.