p and
gone away, and you'd never seen her again?"

His face said plainly that he wouldn't have liked it at all.

"Well, that's what she'd have done. And I wanted her to stay and marry
you."

"Yes, but with her eyes open."

She shook her head, the head that would have been so wise for him.

"No," said she. "Anne's one of those people who see best with their eyes
shut."

"Well, they're open enough now in all conscience. But there's one thing
she hasn't found out. She doesn't know how it happened. Can you tell her?
_I_ can't. I told her there were extenuating circumstances; but of
course I couldn't go into them."

"What did she say?"

"She said no circumstances could extenuate facts."

"I can hear her saying it."

"I understand her state of mind," said Majendie. "She couldn't see the
circumstances for the facts."

"Our Anne is but young. In ten years' time she won't be able to see the
facts for the circumstances."

"Well--will you tell her?"

"Of course I will."

"Make her see that I'm not necessarily an utter brute just because I----"

"I'll make her see everything."

"Forgive me for bothering you."

"Dear--forgive me for breaking my promise and deceiving you."

He bent to her weak arms.

"I believe," she whispered, "the end will yet justify the means."

"Oh--the end."

He didn't see it; but he was convinced that there could hardly be a worse
beginning.

He went upstairs, where Anne lay in the agonies of her bilious attack. He
found comfort, rather than gave it, by holding handkerchiefs steeped in
eau-de-Cologne to her forehead. It gratified him to find that she would
let him do it without shrinking from his touch.

But Anne was past that.

CHAPTER IV

For once in his life Majendie was glad that he had a business. Shipping
(he was a ship-owner) was a distraction from the miserable problem that
weighed on him at home.

Anne's morning face was cold to him. She lay crushed in her bed. She had
had a bad night, and he knew himself to be the cause of it.

His pity for her hurt like passion.

"How is she?" asked Edith, as he came into her room before going to the
office.

"She's a wreck," he said, "a ruin. She's had an awful night. Be kind to
her, Edie."

Edie was very kind. But she said to herself that if Anne was a ruin that
was not at all a bad thing.

Edith Majendie was a loving but shrewd observer of the people of her
world. Lying on her back she saw them at an unusual ang