mind, I don't
mean that; it's no business of mine, I suppose. But I know you care for
him. I'm sorry if--"

But he was not sorry. Try as he would, his heart was leaping in him for
joy. With Vandover out of the way, he knew that all would be different;
Turner herself had said so.

"Oh, everything is wrong," said Turner, with tears in her eyes. "I have
been so disappointed in Van; oh, terribly disappointed."

"I know; yes, I think I know what you mean," answered young Haight in a
low voice.

"Oh, please don't let's talk about it at all," cried Turner. But young
Haight could not stop now.

"Is Van really out of the question, then?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed, not seeing what he was coming to. "Oh, yes;
how could I--how _could_ I care for him after--after what has happened?"

Very much embarrassed, young Haight went on: "I know it's unfair to take
advantage of you now, but do you remember what you said once? That if
Vandover were out of the question, that _'perhaps'_ you might--that it
would be--that there might be a chance for me?"

Turner was silent for a long time, and then she said: "Yes, I remember."

"Well, how about that _now_?" asked young Haight with a nervous laugh.

"Ah," answered Turner, "how do I know--so soon!"

"But what do you _think_, Turner?" he persisted.

"But I haven't thought at all," she returned.

"Well, think now!" he went on. "Tell me--how about that?"

"About _what_?"

"Ah, you know what I mean," young Haight replied, feeling like a little
boy, "about what you said at your house that Sunday night. Please tell
me; you don't know how much it means to me."

"Oh, there's Delphine at the door!" suddenly exclaimed Turner. "Now,
really, I _must_ go down. She doesn't know where to go; she's so
stupid!"

"No," he answered, "not until you tell me!" He caught her hand, refusing
to let it go.

"Ah, how mean you are to corner me so!" she cried laughing and
embarrassed. "Must I--well--I know I shouldn't. _O-oh_, I just _detest_
you!" Young Haight turned her hand palm upward and kissed the little
circle of crumpled flesh that showed where her glove buttoned. Then she
tore her hand away and ran downstairs, while he followed more slowly.

On her way back to the dressing-room she met him again, crossing the
hall.

"Don't you want to see me home?" she said.

"Do I _want_ to?" shouted young Haight.

"Oh, but I forgot," she cried. "You can't. I won't let you. You have
your other