fe," he said quickly.
He could not tell whether his sudden resolution was an instinct or the
obstinacy that often comes to an awkward man. "But," he added, coloring,
"I shall always regret the loss of the portmanteau, for it was the means
of bringing us together."

"I thought it was the umbrella," said Miss Avondale dryly.

She had once before halted him on the perilous edge of sentiment by a
similar cynicism, but this time it cut him deeply. For he could not
be blind to the fact that she treated him like a mere boy, and in
dispelling the illusions of his instincts and beliefs seemed as if
intent upon dispelling his illusions of HER; and in her half-smiling
abstraction he read only the well-bred toleration of one who is
beginning to be bored. He made his excuses early and went home.
Nevertheless, although regretting he had not left her the letter and
photograph, he deposited them in the bank safe the next day, and tried
to feel that he had vindicated his character for grown-up wisdom.

Then, in his conflicting emotions, he punished himself, after the
fashion of youth, by avoiding the beloved one's presence for several
days. He did this in the belief that it would enable him to make up his
mind whether to reveal his real feelings to her, and perhaps there
was the more alluring hope that his absence might provoke some
manifestations of sentiment on her part. But she made no sign. And then
came a reaction in his feelings, with a heightened sense of loyalty
to his benefactor. For, freed of any illusion or youthful fancy now, a
purely unselfish gratitude to the unknown man filled his heart. In the
lapse of his sentiment he clung the more closely to this one honest
romance of his life.

One afternoon, at the close of business, he was a little astonished to
receive a message from Mr. Dingwall, the deputy manager, that he wished
to see him in his private office. He was still more astonished when Mr.
Dingwall, after offering him a chair, stood up with his hands under his
coat tails before the fireplace, and, with a hesitancy half reserved,
half courteous, but wholly English, said,--

"I--er--would be glad, Mr. Trent, if you would--er--give me the pleasure
of your company at dinner to-morrow."

Randolph, still amazed, stammered his acceptance.

"There will be--er--a young lady in whom you were--er--interested some
time ago. Er--Miss Avondale."

Randolph, feeling he was coloring, and uncertain whether he should speak
of