“Well, anyhow, I knew you would advise me to do it; and now you are not satisfied with what I’ve done. But go on, don’t spare me—I am too miserable to care to defend myself! I—I don’t believe I shall live very long, anyhow. I shall tell them to give you my marquise ring, as a token of forgiveness, when I’m gone. I hope you will remember me when you look at it—and be sure to notice if the stones are quite secure in their setting.” “I w—will; I promise you,” sobbed the girl with the dimple in her chin; “but don’t you think a trip—well a trip to Old Point Comfort might save your life. They tell me it is very gay there now!” The blue-eyed girl shook her head. “Nothing can save me now, dear; why I can hook all my gowns now without holding my breath, and yesterday I ate no luncheon at all—took nothing between breakfast and dinner but a couple of cream sodas, a box of caramels, and a cup or two of afternoon tea. You know nobody can live long at that rate. Well, I am sorry for Jack Bittersweet when I am gone; a lifetime of remorse and—and Frances is not a pleasant thing to look forward to!” “You haven’t told me yet about Jack, dear, so—” “True; and some one should know the true story when I am no more. Here is the place where they make such nice chocolate; let us stop in and drink a cup while I tell you. You take the chair facing the mirror, dear,” she said, as they selected a table, “my personal appearance is no longer a matter of importance to me.” “You said that Jack—” “Has behaved abominably. It is a long story, but I—I shall probably never tell you another long story, so you can afford to listen to this one. You know the little beggar boy with the beautiful brown eyes that I told you about a week or two ago?” “Yes; but about Jack. I—” “This is about Jack. I told you how I sympathized with that boy’s sad story, and went with him to investigate it, didn’t I?” “Yes, but you never told me whether his home was—” “I didn’t get there. He led me through the most awful slums, telling me all the time how his father would beat him, when he failed to bring money home, and how he knew I was the beautiful lady he had dreamed of, as soon as he saw me.” “Well? Go on, dear.” “Oh, nothing; only the horrid little wretch suddenly dived down an alley and disappeared; and, oh, Emily, I—I believe he made a face at me as he went! Worse yet, when I felt for my pocketbook it was gone, and I had to walk all the way home!” “Oh, my goodness, had he taken it?” “I surely had not given it to him. I had almost forgotten the affair, when the cook came up yesterday to tell me that he was in the kitchen, and had brought my pocketbook back, with a long story about having seen another boy take it. Said he had followed him, when he left me, and taken it away from him, in turn.” “Well, I declare; and there was all your money intact after you had doubted his honesty!”