h, er--er--the usual things. Sorry. Ashamed. It's so difficult for
him, because, of course, in a certain sense it _is_ his doing. ...
Naturally, he feels--"

"What does he say?"

"Pixie, _don't_ go on repeating that! It's stupid. I've _told_ you!
And there's a message for you. He thanks you for _your_ message, (I
didn't know you had sent one!) and says it was `like you.' What did you
say?"

But Pixie did not enlighten her.

"I think he ought to have written to me!" she said decisively. "After
all, Bridgie, it is my business, not yours. I thought he _would_
write."

Bridgie had the grace to blush.

"But just at first, dear, it is difficult.--He feels it so much. It's
easier to a third person. Later on, in a few months' time, when things
have settled down, he wants to come north to see us. It will be easier
then..."

"Oh!" Pixie seemed of a sudden as eager to avoid the subject as she had
been to continue it. She handed her own letter across the table with a
short "From Honor! You may read it," and thereby protected herself
against the scrutiny of Bridgie's eyes.

The sheet was covered with a large, straggling handwriting, and Pixie,
reading it, had seemed to hear Honor's very voice speaking to her.

"My dear Patricia,--I guess you may not want to hear from me, but I'm
bound to write, and maybe I can say a few things that will help us
both. You're feeling pretty badly at the moment. But I want you just
to realise that I've been feeling that way for a good year back, and
to try to see both sides.

"It began, Patricia, through our both feeling lone and lorn and trying
to comfort each other. You'll recollect you _asked_ me to be good to
him! Things went on all right for a spell, but before we knew where
we were that friendship had got to be too important to us both. There
wasn't a thought of disloyalty in it, Patricia, on his part or mine,
and the very first time I had an inkling of what was happening I went
off west for a tour of four months. I presume it was too late by that
time, for when I went home (I was bound to go home!) matters didn't
seem to have mended. After a while we had it out--it was bound to
come some time--and I told Stanor straight he'd either got to make a
clean breast of things to you or never see me again. Up till then, I
guess, we'd behaved as well as any two youngsters could have been
expected to do under the circumstances, but aft