always around a corner, watching her, obsessed her. She felt
aggrieved, insulted. She even shed a tear or two, very surreptitiously;
and then, being human and much upset, and the cat startling her by its
sudden return and selfish advances, she shooed it off the veranda and
set an imaginary dog after it. Whereupon, feeling somewhat better, she
went in and locked the balcony window and proceeded upstairs.

Le Moyne's light was still going. The rest of the household slept. She
paused outside the door.

"Are you sleepy?"--very softly.

There was a movement inside, the sound of a book put down. Then: "No,
indeed."

"I may not see you in the morning. I leave to-morrow."

"Just a minute."

From the sounds, she judged that he was putting on his shabby gray
coat. The next moment he had opened the door and stepped out into the
corridor.

"I believe you had forgotten!"

"I? Certainly not. I started downstairs a while ago, but you had a
visitor."

"Only Joe Drummond."

He gazed down at her quizzically.

"And--is Joe more reasonable?"

"He will be. He knows now that I--that I shall not marry him."

"Poor chap! He'll buck up, of course. But it's a little hard just now."

"I believe you think I should have married him."

"I am only putting myself in his place and realizing--When do you
leave?"

"Just after breakfast."

"I am going very early. Perhaps--"

He hesitated. Then, hurriedly:--

"I got a little present for you--nothing much, but your mother was quite
willing. In fact, we bought it together."

He went back into his room, and returned with a small box.

"With all sorts of good luck," he said, and placed it in her hands.

"How dear of you! And may I look now?"

"I wish you would. Because, if you would rather have something else--"

She opened the box with excited fingers. Ticking away on its satin bed
was a small gold watch.

"You'll need it, you see," he explained nervously, "It wasn't
extravagant under the circumstances. Your mother's watch, which you had
intended to take, had no second-hand. You'll need a second-hand to take
pulses, you know."

"A watch," said Sidney, eyes on it. "A dear little watch, to pin on and
not put in a pocket. Why, you're the best person!"

"I was afraid you might think it presumptuous," he said. "I haven't any
right, of course. I thought of flowers--but they fade and what have you?
You said that, you know, about Joe's roses. And then, your mother said
you wouldn