“I saw you dancing on the beach with the children one day, and it reminded me of an actress I had once seen. I should not have remembered it but for the accident which impressed it on my mind. Powder, paint, and costume made ‘Miss Douglas’ a very different woman from Miss Devon, but a few cautious inquiries settled the matter, and I then understood where you got that slight soupcon of dash and daring which makes our demure governess so charming when with me.” As he spoke, Mr. Fletcher smiled again, and kissed his hand to her with a dramatic little gesture that exasperated Christie beyond measure. She would not make light of it, as he did, and submit to be forgiven for a past she was not ashamed of. Heartily wishing she had been frank at first, she resolved to have it out now, and accept nothing Mr. Fletcher offered her, not even silence. “Yes,” she said, as steadily as she could, “I was an actress for three years, and though it was a hard life it was an honest one, and I’m not ashamed of it. I ought to have told Mrs. Saltonstall, but I was warned that if I did it would be difficult to find a place, people are so prejudiced. I sincerely regret it now, and shall tell her at once, so you may save yourself the trouble.” “My dear girl, I never dreamed of telling any one!” cried Mr. Fletcher in an injured tone. “I beg you won’t speak, but trust me, and let it be a little secret between us two. I assure you it makes no difference to me, for I should marry an opera dancer if I chose, so forget it, as I do, and set my mind at rest upon the other point. I’m still waiting for my answer, you know.” “It is ready.” “A kind one, I’m sure. What is it, Christie?” “No, I thank you.” “But you are not in earnest?” “Perfectly so.” Mr. Fletcher got up suddenly and set his back against the rock, saying in a tone of such unaffected surprise and disappointment that her heart reproached her: [Illustration: “NO, I THANK YOU.”] “Am I to understand that as your final answer, Miss Devon?” “Distinctly and decidedly my final answer, Mr Fletcher.” Christie tried to speak kindly, but she was angry with herself and him, and unconsciously showed it both in face and voice, for she was no actress off the stage, and wanted to be very true just then as a late atonement for that earlier want of candor. A quick change passed over Mr. Fletcher’s face; his cold eyes kindled with an angry spark, his lips were pale with anger, and his voice was very bitter, as he slowly said: “I’ve made many blunders in my life, and this is one of the greatest; for I believed in a woman, was fool enough to care for her with the sincerest love I ever knew, and fancied that she would be grateful for the sacrifice I made.” He got no further, for Christie rose straight up and answered him with all the indignation she felt burning in her face and stirring the voice she tried in vain to keep as steady as his own.