the pavement near his door, until at the
street corner there appeared a figure he knew. It was Patty Ringrose,
again unaccompanied.

CHAPTER XXIV

They shook hands without a word, their eyes meeting for an instant
only. Hilliard led the way upstairs; and Patty, still keeping an
embarrassed silence, sat down on the easy-chair. Her complexion was as
noticeably fresh as Hilliard's was wan and fatigued. Where Patty's skin
showed a dimple, his bore a gash, the result of an accident in shaving
this morning.

With hands behind he stood in front of the girl.

"She chose not to come, then?"

"Yes. She asked me to come and see you alone."

"No pretence of headache this time."

"I don't think it was a pretence," faltered Patty, who looked very ill
at ease, for all the bloom on her cheeks and the clear, childish light
in her eyes.

"Well, then, why hasn't she come to-day?"

"She has sent a letter for you, Mr. Hilliard."

Patty handed the missive, and Hilliard laid it upon the table.

"Am I to read it now?"

"I think it's a long letter."

"Feels like it. I'll study it at my leisure. You know what it contains?"

Patty nodded, her face turned away.

"And why has she chosen to-day to write to me?" Patty kept silence.
"Anything to do with the call I had yesterday from my friend Narramore?"

"Yes--that's the reason. But she has meant to let you know for some
time."

Hilliard drew a long breath. He fixed his eyes on the letter.

"She has told me everything," the girl continued, speaking hurriedly.
"Did you know about it before yesterday?"

"I'm not so good an actor as all that. Eve has the advantage of me in
that respect. She really thought it possible that Narramore had spoken
before?"

"She couldn't be sure."

"H'm! Then she didn't know for certain that Narramore was going to talk
to me about her yesterday?"

"She knew it _must_ come."

"Patty, our friend Miss Madeley is a very sensible person--don't you
think so?"

"You mustn't think she made a plan to deceive you. She tells you all
about it in the letter, and I'm quite sure it's all true, Mr. Hilliard.
I was astonished when I heard of it, and I can't tell you how sorry I
feel----"

"I'm not at all sure that there's any cause for sorrow," Hilliard
interrupted, drawing up a chair and throwing himself upon it. "Unless
you mean that you are sorry for Eve."

"I meant that as well."

"Let us understand each other. How much has she told you?"