id, it was you. 'I
know you couldn't marry a man like Morgan,' he said. 'You may think so,
but you will not when the time comes.' And once it was, 'Beatrice,
Beatrice, in spite of everything I can't help believing in you.' Then one
night, his worst before the crisis, he seemed to be helping you through
some awful danger, it was a storm I think, and there were wild beasts and
mountains, and at last when it was all over, he said quietly: 'You do owe
your life to me, but I shall never hold you to the debt; that would be too
monstrous.' And a little later it was, 'Head high, hold fast, it will be a
stiff fight, soldier. My dear, my dear, do you think I don't know how near
you came to loving me?' I guess you know how he said that. There are
certain tones in his voice that sink straight to the bottom of your heart;
I couldn't keep from crying. And it seems to me that if you really knew
how much he thought of you, and how sick he had been, and how he has
wanted you, nothing could keep you from packing up and coming straight to
Washington. I know I should. I could go anywhere, through Alaska or the
Great Sahara, it wouldn't matter which, for a man, if there is one in this
world, who could love me that well."

Beatriz Weatherbee folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope. The
action was mechanical, and she sat twisting it with a kind of silent
emphasis, looking out into the thick atmosphere. A dash of hail struck the
window; the plate glass grew opaque. Then, suddenly, she lifted her arms
to the table and dropped her face; her body shook. It was as though she
had come at last to her blank wall; the inevitable she had so persistently
evaded was upon her; there was no escape.

Presently some one knocked. And instantly her intrepid spirit was up, on
guard. She sat erect and pressed her handkerchief swiftly to her eyes.
Then Marcia Feversham opened the door and, finding the button, flashed on
the lights.

"Why, Beatriz," she exclaimed. "Are you here in the dark? You must have
fallen asleep in your chair."

"And dreaming." She rose, shading her eyes from the sudden glare. "But it
was a wretched dream, Marcia; I am glad you wakened me. Where is
Elizabeth?"

"Making Frederic's cocktail. He needed a bracer to go through a business
meeting with Stuart Foster; but she will be here directly. I thought,
since we are to share your rooms, we had better dress early to be out of
the way. And I sent Celeste in to the Hallidays; Eliza