d look,
"that--that you have made a mistake. The responsibility is mine."

"Ah, you mean that you, as the editor, are willing to take it."

"No," said West--"no"; and then suddenly he felt like a rash suicide,
repentant at the last moment. Already the waters were rushing over his
head; he felt a wild impulse to clutch at the life-belt she had flung
out to him. It is to be remembered to his credit that he conquered it.
"No,--I--I wrote the article myself."

"You?"

Her monosyllable had been Miss Avery's, but there resemblance parted.
Sharlee sat still in her chair, and presently her lashes fluttered and
fell. To West's surprise, a beautiful color swept upward from her throat
to drown in her rough dark hair. "Oh," said she, under her breath, "I'm
glad--so _glad!_"

West heaved a great sigh of relief. It was all over, and she was glad.
Hadn't he known all along that a woman will always forgive everything in
the man she loves? She was glad because he had told her when another man
might have kept silent. And yet her look perplexed him; her words
perplexed him. Undoubtedly she must have something more to say than a
mere expression of vague general gladness over the situation.

"Need I say that I never intended there should be any doubt about the
matter? I meant to explain it all to you long ago, only there never
seemed to be any suitable opportunity."

Sharlee's color died away. In silence she raised her eyes and looked at
him.

"I started to tell you all about it once, at the time, but you know," he
said, with a little nervous laugh, "you seemed to find the subject so
extremely painful then--that I thought I had better wait till you could
look at it more calmly."

Still she said nothing, but only sat still in her chair and looked at
him.

"I shall always regret," continued West, laboriously, "that my--silence,
which I assure you I meant in kindness, should have--Why do you look at
me that way, Miss Weyland?" he said, with a quick change of voice. "I
don't understand you."

Sharlee gave a small start and said: "Was I looking at you in any
particular way?"

"You looked as mournful," said West, with that same little laugh, "as
though you had lost your last friend. Now--"

"No, not my last one," said Sharlee.

"Well, don't look so sad about it," he said, in a voice of affectionate
raillery. "I am quite unhappy enough over it without--"

"I'm afraid I can't help you to feel happier--not to-night. If I look
sa