"James, on Monday night I dropped a rose on the lawn. (Finds thread on her sleeve.) In the morning when I looked for it (brushes the apron again), it was gone. Did you find it?" She made a little ball of the straggling threads and dropped it into the waste-basket. A woman who has the support of beauty can always force a man to lower his gaze. James looked at his boots. His heart gave one great bound toward his throat, then sank what seemed to be fathoms deep in his breast. This was a thunderbolt out of heaven itself. Had she seen him, then? For a space he was tempted to utter a falsehood; but there was that in her eyes which warned him of the uselessness of such an expedient. Yet, to give up that rose would be like giving up some part of his being. She repeated the question: "I ask you if you found it." "Yes, Miss Annesley." "Do you still possess it?" "Yes, Miss." "And why did you pick it up?" "It was fresh and beautiful; and I believed that some lady at the dinner had worn it." "And so you picked it up? Where did you find it?" "Outside the bow-window, Miss." "When?" He thought for a moment. "In the morning, Miss." "Take care, James; it was not yet eleven o'clock, at night." "I admit what I said was not true, Miss. As you say, it was not yet eleven." James was pale. So she had thrown it away, confident that this moment would arrive. This humiliation was premeditated. Patience, he said inwardly; this would be the last opportunity she should have to humiliate him. "Have you the flower on your person?" "Yes, Miss." "Did you know that it was mine?" He was silent. "Did you know that it was mine?"--mercilessly. "Yes; but I believed that you had deliberately thrown it away. I saw no harm in taking it." "But there _was harm."_ "I bow to your superior judgment, Miss,"--ironically. She deemed it wisest to pass over this experimental irony. "Give the flower back to me. It is not proper that a servant should have in his keeping a rose which was once mine, even if I had thrown it away or discarded it." Carefully he drew forth the crumpled flower. He looked at her, then at the rose, hoping against hope that she might relent. He hesitated till he saw an impatient movement of the extended hand. He surrendered. "Thank you. That is all. You may go." She tossed the withered flower into the waste-basket. "Pardon me, but before I go I have to announce that I shall resign my position next Monday. The money which has been advanced to me, deducting that which is due me, together with the amount of my fine at the police-court, I shall be pleased to return to you on the morning of my departure." Miss Annesley's lips fell apart, and her brows arched. She was very much surprised. "You wish to leave my service?"--as if it were quite impossible that such a thing should occur to him. "Yes, Miss." "You are dissatisfied with your position?"--icily.