LITMIR.BIZ

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had a better reason," he said, meeting her eyes gravely.

      "You must tell me it—but not just yet. I have something to tell you first." She held out her little clenched hand. "Here is something that belongs to you. Can you open it?"

      He straightened her fingers one by one, and took from her palm the engagement-ring he had given her. Instantly he looked up, doubt and relief sweeping his face.

      "Am I to understand that you terminate our engagement?"

      She nodded.

      "May I ask why?"

      "I couldn't bring myself to it, Waring. I honestly tried, but I couldn't do it."

      "When did you find this out?"

      "I began to find it out the first day of our engagement. I couldn't make it seem right. I've been in a process of learning it ever since. It wouldn't be fair to you for me to marry you."

      "You're a brick, Virginia!" he cried jubilantly.

      "No, I'm not. That is a minor reason. The really important one is that it wouldn't be fair to me."

      "No, it would not," he admitted, with an air of candor.

      "Because, you see, I happen to care for another man," she purred.

      His vanity leaped up fully armed. "Another man! Who?"

      "That's my secret," she answered, smiling at his chagrin.

      "And his?"

      "I said mine. At any rate, if three knew, it wouldn't be a secret," was her quick retort.

      "Do you think you have been quite fair to me, Virginia?" he asked, with gloomy dignity.

      "I think so," she answered, and touched him with the riposte: "I'm ready now to have you tell me when you expect to marry Aline Harley."

      His dignity collapsed like a pricked bladder. "How did you know?" he demanded, in astonishment.

      "Oh well, I have eyes."

      "But I didn't know—I thought—"

      "Oh, you thought! You are a pair of children at the game," this thousand-year-old young woman scoffed. "I have known for months that you worshiped each other."

      "If you mean to imply" he began severely.

      "Hit somebody of your size, Warry," she interrupted cheerfully, as to an infant. "If you suppose I am so guileless as not to know that you were coming here this afternoon to tell me you were regretfully compelled to give me up on account of a more important engagement, then you conspicuously fail to guess right. I read it in your note."

      He gave up attempting to reprove her. It did not seem feasible under the circumstances. Instead, he held out the hand of peace, and she took it with a laugh of gay camaraderie.

      "Well," he smiled, "it seems possible that we may both soon be subjects for congratulation. That just shows how things work around right. We never would have suited each other, you know."

      "I'm quite sure we shouldn't," agreed Virginia promptly. "But I don't think I'll trouble you to congratulate me till you see me wearing another solitaire."

      "We'll hope for the best," he said cheerfully. "If it is the man I think, he is a better man than I am."

      "Yes, he is," she nodded, without the least hesitation.

      "I hope you will be happy with him."

      "I'm likely to be happy without him."

      "Not unless he is a fool."

      "Or prefers another lady, as you do."

      She settled herself back in the low easy chair, with her hands clasped behind her head.

      "And now I'd like to know why you prefer her to me," she demanded saucily. "Do you think her handsomer?"

      He looked her over from the rippling brown hair to the trim suede shoes. "No," he smiled; "they don't make them handsomer."

      "More intellectual?"

      "No."

      "Of a better disposition?"

      "I like yours, too."

      "More charming?"

      "I find her so, saving your presence."

      "Please justify yourself in detail."

      He shook his head, still smiling. "My justification is not to be itemized. It lies deeper—in destiny, or fate, or whatever one calls it."

      "I see." She offered Markham's verses as an explanation:

      "Perhaps we are led and our loves are fated,

       And our steps are counted one by one;

       Perhaps we shall meet and our souls be mated,

       After the burnt-out sun."

      "I like that. Who did you say wrote it?"

      The immobile butler, as once before, presented a card for her inspection. Ridgway, with recollections of the previous occasion, ventured to murmur again: "The fairy prince."

      Virginia blushed to her hair, and this time did not offer the card for his disapproval.

      "Shall I congratulate him?" he wanted to know.

      The imperious blood came to her cheeks on the instant. The sudden storm in her eyes warned him better than words.

      "I'll be good," he murmured, as Lyndon Hobart came into the room.

      His goodness took the form of a speedy departure. She followed him to the door for a parting fling at him.

      "In your automobile you may reach a telegraph-office in about five minutes. With luck you may be engaged inside of an hour."

      "You have the advantage of me by fifty-five minutes," he flung back.

      "You ought to thank me on your knees for having saved you a wretched scene this afternoon," was the best she could say to cover her discomfiture.

      "I do. I do. My thanks are taking the form of leaving you with the prince."

      "That's very crude, sir—and I'm not sure it isn't impertinent."

      Miss Balfour was blushing when she returned to Hobart. He mistook the reason, and she could not very well explain that her blushes were due to the last wordless retort of the retiring "old love," whose hand had gone up in a ridiculous bless-you-my-children attitude just before he left her.

      Their conversation started stiffly. He had come, he explained, to say good-by. He was leaving the State to go to Washington prior to the opening of the session.

      This gave her a chance to congratulate him upon his election. "I haven't had an opportunity before. You've been so busy, of course, preparing to save the country, that your time must have been very fully occupied."

      He did not show his surprise at this interpretation of the fact that he had quietly desisted from his attentions to her, but accepted it as the correct explanation, since she had chosen to offer it.

      Miss Balfour expressed regret that he was going, though she did not suppose she would see any less of him than she had during the past two months. He did not take advantage of her little flings to make the talk less formal, and Virginia, provoked at his aloofness, offered no more chances. Things went very badly, indeed, for ten minutes, at the end of which time Hobart rose to go. Virginia was miserably aware of being wretched despite the cool hauteur of her seeming indifference. But he was too good a sportsman to go without letting her know he held no grudge.

      "I hope you will be very happy with Mr. Ridgway. Believe me, there is nobody whose happiness I would so rejoice at as yours."

      "Thank you," she smiled coolly, and her heart raced. "May I hope that your good wishes still obtain even though I must seek my happiness apart from Mr. Ridgway?"

      He held her for an instant's grave, astonished questioning, before

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