it to women over clandestine cups of tea--was farthest
from their comprehension.

Nor would they have thought it credible that Steve, married to his
coveted fairy princess, should first become attached to Mary Faithful
by friendship and then find that friendship replaced by a deep and
never-to-be-changed love. It was an impossible situation, they would
have said.

The morning following Beatrice's parlour picnic and Mary's hard-wrung
confession Steve made it a point to be at his desk when Mary came in,
despite the few hours' sleep and the fact that Beatrice had willfully
chosen to take breakfast with him in sulky, tearful reproach. When
Mary was taking off her hat and coat he came to the door of her office
and made a formal little bow.

He found himself more in love with her than the night previous. There
was something so pathetic and lonely about her, successful business
woman that she was; the very fact of people's not suspecting it,
labelling her as self-sufficient and carefree, only emphasized this
loneliness now that he looked at her with a lover's eyes. He realized
that whereas he had had to win a fortune to marry the Gorgeous Girl it
would be as necessary to lose a fortune to marry Mary--if such a thing
were possible; that she was a woman not easy to win, one who would
find her happiness not in taking hastily accumulated wealth but in
making a man by slow processes and honourable methods until he was
fitted to obtain a fortune and then enjoy it with her.

"Good morning"--wondering if he looked confused--"I wanted to say that
I am on the country-club committee to welcome English golfers, and
I'll be away this week off and on. And--and whenever you want me to
I'll try to keep under cover for a bit.... I think I do appreciate
your telling me the truth last night more than anything else that has
ever happened to me; there was something so stoically splendid about
it--and I don't want to abuse the confidence. Please don't mind my
just mentioning it, I'll promise not to do so again; and we'll go on
as before. I was a cad to play about your fireplace--quite wrong--and
you had to make me realize it. Do you know, I was half afraid you'd
send in your resignation this morning? Women always do those things
in books. Please say something and help a chap out."

Mary was at her desk opening mail with slow, steady fingers.

"I have my living and Luke's living to make, and I could not resign
unless you asked me to do so,"