"I don't know anything about it," he said hesitatingly, "only what she
told me. She was awfully upset this morning; red-eyed and white about
the gills, and all I could understand was that it was 'all over' between
you." He grinned again, but more uncomfortably. "Of course, I knew it
was only a lovers' tiff--'make it up and kiss again,' don't you know."

His voice and the grin died away under the change in Drake's expressive
countenance.

"What is the matter, anyway?" he demanded. "Is there a real quarrel?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Drake, speaking as a man
speaks when a cold fear is beginning to creep about his heart.

"Well, I don't know myself," said Dick desperately. "Oh, I've got a
letter for you somewhere--perhaps that will explain. Now, what did I do
with it? Oh, I know! Wait a moment!"

He ran into the house, and Drake waited, mechanically stroking his
horse's sweating neck.

Dick came out and held out a letter.

"She gave me this for you."

Drake opened the letter, and read:

"DEAR DRAKE: I may call you so for the last time. I am writing to tell
you that our engagement must come to an end. I have found that I have,
that we both have, made a mistake. You, who are so quick to understand,
will know, even as you read this, that I have discovered all that you
have kept secret from me, and that, now I know it all, it is impossible,
quite impossible, that I should----" Here a line was hastily scratched
through. "I want you to believe that I don't blame you in the least; it
is quite impossible that I could care for you any longer, or that I
could consent to remain your promised wife; indeed, I am sorry, very,
very sorry, that we should have met. If I had known all that I know now,
I would rather have died than have let you speak a word of love to me.

"So it is 'good-by' forever. Please do not make it harder for me by
writing to me or attempting to see me--but I know that you have cared,
perhaps still care enough for me not to do so. Nothing would induce me
to renew our engagement, though I shall always think kindly of you, and
wish you well. I return the ring you gave me. You will let me keep the
silver pencil as a souvenir of one who will always remain as, but can
never be more than, a friend.

"Yours, ELEANOR LORTON."

Men take the blows of Fate in various fashions. Drake's way was to take
his punishment with as little fuss as possible.