"I owe you an explanation, Miss Baxter," Peavey began abruptly. Then he hesitated, and rearranged the knives and forks. "Your letter caused me great pain--the greatest! I would have come back instantly, if it had been possible without sacrificing things I had set my heart on." "I was very much surprised; hurt, too!" she said gravely. "I have always thought of you--well, as different, don't you know?" He bit his lip, and brought the knives over to the forks. "I hope you didn't misjudge me?" "I didn't know what to think!" "I--I don't quite know how to explain. I did not realize Miss Horning's character. She confessed to me that she was in want; I thought of her as your friend." "And you helped her?" she said, instantly alert. "It was not much." "It is true," she said seriously, "I introduced Winona to you. She has been a great deception to me, too. But why did you keep on seeing her without saying anything to me? Nothing wrong in it, but why hide it? That's what wounded me." "Of course," he said miserably, "that was wrong. I don't know how it came--" "Sympathy?" she suggested, with a smile. "I was sorry for her." "She wished you to marry her, didn't she?" "No, it was not that! It--was quite different!" he said, and his face crimsoned, while the knives were transferred hastily back to the right. He drew a long painful breath. "It's something very disagreeable--something I can't talk to you about! All I wish to say is, for your own good, Miss--Miss Horning is not a proper friend for you." "She has been gone almost two months!" she said quietly. "Very well; we won't say anything more. You are too generous, too warm-hearted, Mr. Peavey! Tell me about what you've been doing." Her doubts had been suddenly confirmed, but it gave her a sudden feeling of horror as she thought of the desperation to which Winona must have been driven to have attempted such a stroke. Then she was afraid of the opening into sentiment which she saw before her, and changed the subject quickly, but, unfortunately, to her disadvantage. "I have carried through a great merger of our interests," he said, his face lighting up. "The last formalities will be completed to-night, in Boston. It will be"--he stopped, not daring to look at her--"very profitable. In a year I shall be, not a very rich man, but quite rich--yes, quite rich, even as things go to-day! My intention then is to retire, to travel, to see the great cities of the world. I don't care for money myself, except--well, to give everything possible in the world to the person I care for."