as a silence. "Don't kneel, Judith," he said at length.
"You will be so tired."

She rose obediently and drew up a chair. "Monty," she faltered
tremulously, "shall I say a prayer? I've never prayed much--my prayers
never seemed to get above the ceiling, somehow. But I'll--try."

He smiled wanly. "I wouldn't want any better than yours, Judith. But
seems as if I'd been prayed over enough. I reckon God Almighty's like
anybody else, and doesn't want to be ding-donged all the time."

He seemed to have been gathering his resolution, and presently his hand
fumbled over his breast. "My wallet; give it to me." She drew it from
the pocket and the uncertain fingers took out a key. "It opens a tin
box in my trunk. There's--a letter in it for you." He paused a moment,
panting: "Judith," he said, "I've got to tell you, but it's mighty hard.
The letter ... it's one Valiant gave me for you--that morning, after the
duel. I--never gave it to you."

If she had been white before, she grew like marble now. Her slim fingers
clutched the little cane till it rattled against the chair, and the lace
at her throat shook with her breathing. "Yes--Monty."

He lifted his hand with difficulty and put the key into hers. "The
seal's still unbroken, Judith," he said, "but I've kept it these thirty
years."

She was holding the key in her hands, looking down upon it. There was a
strained half-fearful wonder in her face. For an instant she seemed
quite to have forgotten him in the grip of some swift and painful
emotion.

"I loved you, Judith!" he stammered in anguished appeal. "From the
time we were boy and girl together, I loved you. You never cared for
me--Sassoon and Valiant had the inside track. You might have loved me;
but I had no chance with either of them. Then came the duel. There was
only Valiant then. I overheard his promise to you that night, Judith. He
had broken that! If you cared more for him than for Sassoon, you might
have forgiven him, and I should have lost you! I didn't want you to call
him back, Judith! I wanted my chance! And so--I took it. That's--the
reason, dear. It's--it's a bad one, isn't it!"

A shiver went over her set face--like a breath of wind over tall grass,
and she seemed to come back from an infinite distance to place and
moment. Between the curtains a white butterfly hovered an instant, and
in the yard she heard the sound of some winged thing fluttering. The
thought darted to her that it was the sound of her ow