wet handkerchief wadded
in one hand, a packet of letters in her lap. A long instant they studied
each other.

"Am I intruding?" inquired Peter at last.

Linda shook her head vigorously and gulped down a sob.

"No, Peter," she sobbed, "I had come this far on my way to you when my
courage gave out."

Peter rearranged the immediate landscape and seated himself beside
Linda.

"Now stop distressing yourself," he said authoritatively. "You
youngsters do take life so seriously. The only thing that could have
happened to you worth your shedding a tear over can't possibly have
happened; so stop this waste of good material. Tears are very precious
things, Linda. They ought to be the most unusual things in life. Now
tell me something. Were you coming to me about that matter that worried
you the other evening?"

Linda shook her head.

"No," she said, "I have turned that matter over where it belongs. I have
nothing further to do with it. I'll confess to you I took a paper from
among those that fell from Henry Anderson's pocket. It was not his. He
had no right to have it. He couldn't possibly have come by it honorably
or without knowing what it was. I took the liberty to put it where it
belongs, or at least where it seemed to me that it belongs. That is all
over."

"Then something else has happened?" asked Peter. "Something connected
with the package of letters in your lap?"

Linda nodded vigorously.

"Peter, I have done something perfectly awful," she confessed. "I never
in this world meant to do it. I wouldn't have done it for anything. I
have got myself into the dreadfullest mess, and I don't know how to get
out. When I couldn't stand it another minute I started right to you,
Peter, just like I'd have started to my father if I'd had him to go to."

"I see," said Peter, deeply interested in the toe of his shoe. "You
depended on my age and worldly experience and my unconcealed devotion to
your interests, which is exactly what you should do, my dear. Now tell
me. Dry your eyes and tell me, and whatever it is I'll fix it all right
and happily for you. I'll swear to do it if you want me to."

Then Linda raised her eyes to his face.

"Oh, Peter, you dear!" she cried. "Peter, I'll just kneel and kiss your
hands if you can fix this for me."

Peter set his jaws and continued his meditations on shoe leather.

"Make it snappy!" he said tersely. "The sooner your troubles are out of
your system the better you'll feel. Whose