womankind. Neither did he hear the light footfall upon the floor, but
when a sweet, tearful voice said to him, "Mr. Browning, are you
feeling so badly for me?" he started, and on a hassock at his feet saw
Rosamond Leyton. The sight of her was unexpected, and it startled him
for a moment, but soon recovering his composure, he said gently: "Why
are you here? I supposed you were in bed."

Rosamond began to cry, and with her usual impetuosity replied, "I came
to tell you how sorry I am for behaving so rudely to you. I do try to
govern my temper so hard, but it sometimes gets the mastery. Won't you
forgive me, sir? It wasn't Rosamond that acted so--it was a vile,
wicked somebody else. Will you forgive me?" and in her dread that the
coveted forgiveness might be withheld, she forgot that he was only
_twenty-four_, and laid her head upon his knee, sobbing like a little
child.

"Had _she_ done like this, how different would my life have been,"
thought Mr. Browning, and involuntarily caressing the curly head, he
was about to speak, when Rosamond interrupted him, saying,

"I won't deceive you, Mr. Browning, and make you think I'm better than
I am. I am sorry I acted so to you, but I don't believe I'm sorry
about Mrs. Van Vechten. I don't like her, for she always treats me as
though I were not near as good as she, and I can't wait on her any
more. Must I? Oh, don't make me," and she looked beseechingly into his
face.

He could not help respecting her for that inborn feeling, which would
not permit herself to be trampled down, and though he felt intuitively
that she was having her own way after all, he assured her of his