ce without pangs of self-pity at the cruel necessity. It was his
honor, or hers! and if only the one or the other could be saved, it must
be his. So he saved it--according to his lights. He saved it by being
very bold in his statements by day, and heaping ignominy on himself
during the black hours of sleeplessness. He found, however, that the
process paid; for boldness engendered a sort of fictitious belief which
paralyzed the tendency to self-upbraiding until it ceased.

The special quality of his courage was shown on that gray dawn when he
stood up before George Eveleth in a corner of the Pre Catalan. He had
not the moral force to confess himself a perjurer in the sight of Paris,
but he could stand ready to take the bullets in his breast. In going to
the encounter he had no intention of doing otherwise. He would not atone
to an injured woman by setting her right in the eyes of men, but he
would make her the offering of his life.

It was a satisfaction now to know, as he was assured by letters, that
the incident was practically forgotten, and that Diane Eveleth had
disappeared. He himself found it easier than it used to be to dismiss
the subject from his mind; and if he recalled it at times, it was
generally--as it had been on shipboard--when at the end of his store of
confidential anecdotes. He was thinking, however, of dropping the story
from his repertoire, for he had more than remarked that its effect was
slightly sinister upon himself. He noticed, too, that, during the first
twenty-four hours on the steamer, Derek Pruyn avoided him, while he on
his part had felt a curious impulse to slink out of sight, which could
only be explained by the supposition that, as often happens on long
voyages, they had seen too much of each other.

Finding that he had let his cigarette go out, he threw it away, and
turned from the window to complete his toilet. As he did so his valet
entered with a card, stating that the gentleman who had sent it in was
waiting in the hail outside.

"Ask him to come in," he said, briefly, when he had read the name. He
was scarcely surprised, for Pruyn had spoken more than once of showing
him some civilities when they reached New York, and putting him up at
one or two convenient dubs.

"My dear sir," he cried, going forward with outstretched hand; but the
words died on his lips as Derek pushed his way in brusquely, without
greeting.

Again the young man attempted the ceremonious by apologizing fo