landed--doesn't make it much more--sensible. I'm sure your motives
were--most kind. But--you've made a mistake, as you must realize now, and
the only way to atone is to--to----"

"I know. Keep out of your way. And I've promised. But I _don't_ realize
that I've made a mistake, Mrs. May. There's no use sayin' I do; for, in
spite of all, if 'twas to do over again, I would. I wouldn't change
anything."

"Then you shouldn't boast of it!" exclaimed Angela. "Confession may be
good for the soul of the confessor, but it can be embarrassing for the one
confessed to. You oughtn't to have told me why you came. The only thing to
save the situation would have been to let me think it was an accident."

"You wouldn't have thought so long--unless I lied. Ought I to have lied?"

She was rather thankful that the waiter came just then with the menu, and
saved her from answering. She ordered her dinner, and the smiling negro
turned to Nick.

"I don't think I want----" he began. But Angela sternly caught his eye,
mutely commanding him to eat. When he had chosen several dishes at random,
and the waiter had gone, she reproached him again. "What would people
think if you went away in the midst of dinner? There's a man opposite
staring at us now! You're not as tactful as you were the night of the
burglar. Then, you did just the right thing, cleverly and bravely. For
that I can forgive you a good deal--but not everything. Now you make one
blunder after another."

"That night in New York you wanted me. This time you don't. I guess that's