me
a very wicked girl. I had no idea of coming every evening, but you
persuaded me. You know you persuaded me. And how could I tell you I was
engaged? You know you never asked me. I would have told you if you had.
I am telling Mr. Wentworth all about it, and I don't think you ought to
have persuaded me to meet you as you did. It wasn't really kind or nice
of you, was it? Because, of course, I'm not very old, and I don't know
much about the world, and I never thought of all the horrid things
people would say. Do, please, keep this quite a secret. I felt I must
write you just a line. I wonder what you're thinking about me, or
whether you're thinking about me at all. You must never think of me
again. I am very, very unhappy, and I do most earnestly hope, dear Mr.
Merceron, that I have not made you unhappy. We were both very much to
blame, weren't we? But we slipped into it without knowing. Good-by. I
don't think I shall ever forget the dear old Pool, and the temple,
and--the rest. But you must please forget me and forgive me. I am very
miserable about it and about everything. I think we had better not know
each other any more, so please don't answer this. Just put it in the
fire and think no more about it or me. I wanted to tell you all this
when I saw you to-day, but I couldn't. Good-by. Why did we ever meet?"

"Agatha Glyn."

She read this rather confused composition over twice, growing more
sorry for herself each time. Then she put it in an envelope, addressed
it to Charlie, looked out Uncle Van in the Directory, and sent it under
cover to his residence. Then she went and lay down on the hearth-rug,
and began to cry, and through her tears she said aloud to herself,

"I wonder whether he'll write or come."

Because it seemed to her entirely impossible that, in spite of her
prayer, he should put the letter in the fire and let her go. Surely he
too remembered the dear old Pool, and the temple, and--the rest!

CHAPTER IX

TWO MEN OF SPIRIT

"The fact is," observed Lord Thrapston complacently, "the girl very
much resembles me in disposition."

Calder's eyes grew larger and rounder.

"Do you really think so?" he asked anxiously.

"Well, this little lark of hers--hang me, it's just what I should have
enjoyed doing fifty years ago."

"Ah--er--Lord--Thrapston, have you noticed the resemblance you speak of
in any other way?"

"That girl, except that she is a girl, is myself over again--myself
over again