hin her
leap and quiver like the strings of an instrument under a master hand.

He came quietly to the bedside, and stood looking down upon her, not
uttering a word.

She stretched up her trembling hand.

"I'm very glad to see you," she said weakly. "You got my message?
It--it--I hope it didn't annoy you."

"It didn't," said West.

His voice was curt and strained. His fingers had closed very tightly
upon her hand.

"Sit down," murmured Cynthia. "No, don't let go. It helps me
some to have you hold my hand. Mr. West, I've got to tell you
something--something that will make you really angry. I'm rather
frightened, too. It's because I'm sick. You--you must just make
allowances."

A light kindled in West's eyes that shone like a blue flame, but still
he held himself rigid, inflexible as a figure hewn in granite.

"Pray don't distress yourself, Miss Mortimer," he said stiffly.
"Wouldn't it be wiser to wait till you are better before you go any
further?"

"I never shall be better," Cynthia rejoined, a tremor of passion in her
voice, "I never shall go any further, unless you hear me out to-night."

West frowned a little, but still that strange light shone in his steady
eyes.

"I am quite at your service," he said, "either now or at any future
time. But if this interview should make you worse----"

"Oh, shucks!" said Cynthia, with a ghostly little smile. "Don't talk
through your hat, Mr. West!"

West became silent. He was still holding her hand in a warm, close grasp
that never varied.

"Let's get to business," said Cynthia, with an effort to be brisk. "It
begins with a confession. You know better than any one how I managed to
hurt my hand so badly. But even you don't know everything. Even you
never suspected that--that it wasn't an accident at all; that, in fact,
I did it on purpose."

She broke off for a moment, avoiding his eyes, but clinging tightly to
his hand.

"I did it," she went on breathlessly--"I did it because I heard you in
the drive below, and I wanted to attract your attention. I couldn't see
you, but I knew it was you. I was just going to spring the trap with my
foot, and then--and then I heard you, and I stooped down--it came to me
to do it, and I never stopped to think--I stooped down and put my hand
in the way. I never thought--I never thought it would hurt so
frightfully, or that it could come to this."

She was crying as she ended, crying piteously; while West sat like a
stone image,