why there are fewer guests here every year, I'll tell you. SHE'S the
reason!" Then she flounced out with her head up.

(That was pure piffle. The real reason, as every thinking person knows,
is Christian Science. It's cheaper and more handy. And now that it isn't
heresy to say it, the spring being floored over, I reckon that most
mineral springs cure by suggestion. Also, of course, if a man's drinking
four gallons of lithia water a day, he's so saturated that if he does
throw in anything alcoholic or indigestible, it's too busy swimming for
its life to do any harm.)

Mr. Pierce took a quick step toward Miss Patty and looked down at her.

"About--what happened down-stairs to-night," he stammered, with the
unhappiest face I ever saw on a man, "I--I've been ready to knock my
fool head off ever since. It was a mistake--a--"

"My letter, please," said Miss Patty coolly, looking back at him without
a blink.

"Please don't look like that!" he begged. "I came in suddenly out of the
darkness, and you--"

"My letter, please!" she said again, raising her eyebrows.

He gave up trying then. He held out the letter and she took it and went
out with her head up and scorn in the very way she trailed her skirt
over the door-sill. But I'm no fool; it didn't need the way he touched
the door-knob where she had been holding it, when he closed the door
after her, to tell me what ailed him.