yourself."

Half smiling, half tearfully, Diane complied. Before the clerk returned
she had given a brief outline of her life, agreeing in all but the tone
of telling with much of what Mr. Grimston had stated half an hour
earlier.

"It has been all my fault," she declared, as the young man re-entered.
"There's been nobody to blame but me."

"I see that well enough," the old man agreed, and once more she prepared
to depart.

"Look at your receipt. Compare it with the list there on the desk."
Diane obeyed, though her eyes swam so that she could not tell one word
from another. "Is it all right? Then so much the better. You'll find me
at the same time to-morrow--if you're not late."

"Since you won't let me thank you, I must go without doing so," she
began, tremulously, "but I assure you--"

"You needn't assure me of anything, but just come again to-morrow."

She smiled through the mist over her eyes, and bowed.

"I shall not be--late," was all she ventured to say, and turned to leave
him.

She had reached the door, and half opened it, when she heard his voice
behind her.