Dinner at the boarding-house was over when she returned, but its
unsavoury and peculiar smell still pervaded the place.

"Why, Miss Meredyth, I thought you were away for the week-end, at
least," Mrs. Wenham said. "I suppose you won't want any dinner?"

"No," Joan said. "I shall not want anything. I--I--" She paused. "I was
obliged to come back, after all. Perhaps you could let me have a cup of
tea in my room, Mrs. Wenham?"

"Well, it's rather inconvenient with all the washing-up to do, and as
you know I make it a rule that boarders have to be in to their meals, or
go without--still--"

"Please don't trouble!" Joan said stiffly.

The woman looked up the stairs after the tall, slight figure.

"Very well, then, I won't!" she muttered. "The airs some people give
themselves! Anyone would think she was a lady, instead of a clerk or
something."

There was a letter addressed to Joan waiting for her in her room. She
opened it, and read it.

"DEAR JOAN,

"I suppose you are in a temper with me, and I don't think you have
acted quite fairly. A man can't do more than ask a girl to be his
wife. It is not usually considered an insult; however, I say