ut the blind struggle against their assaults. Then, little by
little, she began to relive, with a dreadful poignancy, each separate
stage of her poor romance. Foolish things she had said came back to her,
gay answers Harney had made, his first kiss in the darkness between
the fireworks, their choosing the blue brooch together, the way he had
teased her about the letters she had dropped in her flight from the
evangelist. All these memories, and a thousand others, hummed through
her brain till his nearness grew so vivid that she felt his fingers in
her hair, and his warm breath on her cheek as he bent her head back like
a flower. These things were hers; they had passed into her blood, and
become a part of her, they were building the child in her womb; it was
impossible to tear asunder strands of life so interwoven.

The conviction gradually strengthened her, and she began to form in her
mind the first words of the letter she meant to write to Harney. She
wanted to write it at once, and with feverish hands she began to rummage
in her drawer for a sheet of letter paper. But there was none left; she
must go downstairs to get it. She had a superstitious feeling that the
letter must be written on the instant, that setting down her secret in
words would bring her reassurance and safety; and taking up her candle
she went down to Mr. Royall's office.

At that hour she was not likely to find him there: he had probably had
his supper and walked over to Carrick Fry's. She pushed open the door of
the unlit room, and the light of her lifted candle fell on his figure,
seated in the darkness in his high-backed chair. His arms lay along
the arms of the chair, and his head was bent a little; but he lifted
it quickly as Charity entered. She started back as their eyes met,
remembering that her own were red with weeping, and that her face was
livid with the fatigue and emotion of her journey. But it was too late
to escape, and she stood and looked at him in silence.

He had risen from his chair, and came toward her with outstretched
hands. The gesture was so unexpected that she let him take her hands in
his and they stood thus, without speaking, till Mr. Royall said gravely:
"Charity--was you looking for me?"

She freed herself abruptly and fell back. "Me? No----" She set down the
candle on his desk. "I wanted some letter-paper, that's all." His face
contracted, and the bushy brows jutted forward over his eyes. Without
answering he opened