eon in her apartments. At mid-day, she
saw Wayland coming along the thronged main street. At every step, some
man stopped him to shake hands; and groups turned and gazed after him
as he passed, and spat their approval or disapproval with great
emphasis at the mottled pavement. Below the window, a big Swede
grabbed his two shoulders with the grip of a steam crane.

"Say, you Vaylan', huh?" he asked. "Say, you a' right! You ever need
yob, Vaylan', you 'ply our union! Huh?" and he laughed, and went on;
and the tears welled to Eleanor's eyes.

Then came the lawyer to read the will; and after the lawyer's
departure, Matthews had told her how she concerned his errand down from
the North; and when the door closed on Matthews, she burst into tears.

She saw the street lights come twinkling out, and she did not turn on
the light of the sitting room chandelier. Did he love her at all; or
if he did, did he know what this waiting all day meant to a woman?
Then, it came to her in a flash, his wistful look in the morning behind
the forced gayety, his reference to the last ride, to keeping
resolutions. Was that resolution for the sake of his work at all; or
for her? Of course, Matthews had told him in the Desert; and with the
thought, the weight that had oppressed her rolled from her heart. She
jumped from her chair and uttered a low cry of happy laughter.

"Oh, I'll soon make short work of that resolution," she vowed.

Alas and alas! Samson straining his manhood for strength to shore up a
resolution, and here was a sharpening of scissors to shear him well!

There was a knock on the door. She thought it the waiter coming up
with a late dinner and had called "come in," when the door opened, and
in the glare of light from the hall way stood the news editor,
embarrassed and hesitating.

"Please come in." She pressed the electric button, shook hands with
him and shut the door. His air was at once apologetic and glad, but
all the bitterness and anger seemed to have gone. He stood holding his
soft felt hat in his hand and looking through his glasses, very
steadily and kindly, Eleanor thought.

"Won't you sit down?"

"We newspaper chaps should pretty nearly apologize for coming into your
presence, Miss MacDonald," he began. "I've wanted to tell you how we
fellows all regret that. I hope you know that kind of thing doesn't
come from inside the office. It comes from influences outside."

He had seated himself shadi