e it. I shall be more than glad of your letters."

If I had written when I felt like it, I should seldom have had a pen out
of my hand; yet it was hard to write. There was so little I dared, so
much I wished, to say. And I couldn't mention Diana. I wondered whether
she had broken to him in a letter the news of her engagement, or whether
she had left it for him to discover by accident. I felt that he ought to
be told, but I couldn't bear to be the one to deal the blow, so I hedged
when I wrote to him next, asking, "Have you heard from D... lately?"

He answered the question briefly by the next post "Yes, I heard from her
on Saturday." That was all. No comment, no word as to his feelings. But
he had let me see how he loved her. He could not help knowing that I
would understand what losing her meant to him--and losing her to Major
Vandyke, at such a time and in such a way. Looking back at events, I
calculated that the blow had fallen on Eagle before he answered my
letter, and this gave a more pathetic meaning to the lines which I
intended always to keep.

Except for the knowledge that, powerless as I was, he valued me, there
was no brightness in my days. Major Vandyke did have the effrontery to
come and see me, as Di had thought he would, and I had thought he
wouldn't. He took me at a disadvantage by walking up to me in the hall
of the hotel, where I stood reading a note from Tony. Warned by a flash
of my eyes as I looked up at the sound of his voice, saying, "How do you
do?" he went on hastily: "Don't let's have a scene, please, for Diana's
sake, if not for your own. I know how you feel, so you needn't go to the
length of telling me, or even cutting me, before people. If I hadn't
been sure you were too much of a little lady to make yourself
conspicuous in public, in spite of your feelings, I shouldn't have
risked surprising you like this. I was pretty sure if I didn't catch you
unawares you would refuse to see me. So I had to take some risk, for I
particularly want to speak to you."

"I don't share your desire," I said stiffly. "You were perfectly right
in thinking I shouldn't have seen you if you had given me the chance to
refuse. It's like you, not to have given it. But you're right, too, when
you take it for granted that I won't make a scene. If it could do the
the slightest good, though, to any one concerned, I would!"

He smiled, a pale, unpleasant smile. "No doubt. You'd be capable of
anything. Here's the situat