ifferent
direction. "Your eyes were the only kind ones I had seen since I
landed." He flushed a little, feeling himself on insecure ground,
and ended desperately: "Why, when I left you, I thought of committing
suicide."

"Oh, dear, not so bad as that, I hope!" she said quickly, smiling
kindly, yet with a certain air of mature toleration, as if she were
addressing her little cousin. "You only fancied it. And it isn't very
complimentary to my eyes if their kindness drove you to such horrid
thoughts. And then what happened?" she pursued smilingly.

"I had a job to carry a man's bag, and it got me a night's lodging and
a meal," said Randolph, almost brusquely, feeling the utter collapse of
his story.

"And then?" she said encouragingly.

"I got a situation at the bank."

"When?"

"The next day," faltered Randolph, expecting to hear her laugh. But Miss
Avondale heaved the faintest sigh.

"You are very lucky," she said.

"Not so very," returned Randolph quickly, "for the next time you saw me
you cut me dead."

"I believe I did," she said smilingly.

"Would you mind telling me why?"

"Are you sure you won't be angry?"

"I may be pained," said Randolph prudently.

"I apologize for that beforehand. Well, that first night I saw a young
man looking very anxious, very uncomfortable, and very weak. The second
time--and not very long after--I saw him well dressed, lounging like any
other young man on a Sunday afternoon, and I believed that he took the
liberty of bowing to me then because I had once looked at him under a
misapprehension."

"Oh, Miss Avondale!"

"Then I took a more charitable view, and came to the conclusion that the
first night he had been drinking. But," she added, with a faint smile at
Randolph's lugubrious face, "I apologize. And you have had your revenge;
for if I cut you on account of your smart clothes, you have tried to do
me a kindness on account of my plain ones."

"Oh, Miss Avondale," burst out Randolph, "if you only knew how sorry
and indignant I was at the bank--when--you know--the other day"--he
stammered. "I wanted to go with you to Mr. Revelstoke, you know, who had
been so generous to me, and I know he would have been proud to befriend
you until you heard from your friends."

"And I am very glad you did nothing so foolish," said the young
lady seriously, "or"--with a smile--"I should have been still more
aggravating to you when we met. The bank was quite right. Nor have I any
pa