f."

"Come along. We'll go to your rooms and got the thing done, and then
catch the train. My luggage is at the station now."

"It won't take me a minute to get mine."

"Wentworth, I'm glad to be rid of her."

"All--oh, well--so am I," said Calder.

Late that evening the butler presented Miss Agatha Glyn with two
letters on a salver. As her eye fell on the addresses, she started.
Her heart began to beat. She sat and looked at the two momentous
missives.

"Now which," she thought, "shall I read first? And what shall I do, if
they are both obstinate?"

There was another contingency which Miss Glyn did not contemplate.

After a long hesitation, she took up Charlie's letter, and opened it.
It was very short, and began abruptly without any words of address:

"I have received your letter. Your excuses make it worse. I could
forgive everything except deceit. I leave London to-day. Good-by.--C.
M."

"Deceit!" cried Agatha. "How dare he? What a horrid boy!"

She was walking up and down the room in a state of great indignation.
She had never been talked to like that in her life before. It was
ungentlemanly, cruel, brutal. She flung Charlie's letter angrily down
on the table.

"I am sure poor dear old Calder won't treat me like that!" she
exclaimed, taking up his letter.

It ran thus: "My dear Agatha:--I hope you will believe that I write
this without any feeling of anger towards you. My regard for you
remains very great, and I hope we shall always be very good friends;
but, after long and careful consideration, I have come to the
conclusion that the story Lord Thrapston told, me shows conclusively
what I have been fearing for some time past--namely, that I have not
been so lucky as to win a real affection from you, and that we are not
likely to make one another happy. Therefore, thanking you very much for
your kindness in the past, I think I had better restore your liberty to
you. I shall hear with, very great pleasure of your happiness. I leave
town to day for a little while, in order that you may not be exposed to
the awkwardness of meeting me.

"Always your most sincerely,

"Calder Wentworth."

Agatha passed her hand across her brow; then she reread Calder's
letter, and then Charlie's. Yes, there, was not the least doubt about
it! Both of the gentlemen had well, what they had done did not admit of
being put into tolerable words. With a little shriek, Agatha flung
herself on the sofa.

The door opened an