t Beatrice said was true,--if it was within her
power, at no matter what sacrifice, to give Peter back the sight she
had taken,--then so she might undo some of the wrong she had done. The
bigger the sacrifice, the fiercer the fire might rage to burn her
clean. Because she had thought to sacrifice nothing, she had been
forced to sacrifice everything; if now she sacrificed everything,
perhaps she could get back a little peace in return. She would give
her life to Peter--give him everything that was left in her to give.
Humbly she would serve him and nurse the light back into his eyes. Was
it possible to do this?

She saw Beatrice at the door, and rose to meet her.

"You're to lunch with me," she said. "Then, for dinner, Mr. Covington
has asked us all to join him."

"Covington?" exclaimed Peter. "Is n't he the man who was so decent to
me this morning?"

"He said he met you," answered Marjory.

"I liked him," declared Peter. "I'll be mighty glad to see more of
him."

"And I too," nodded Beatrice. "He looked so very romantic with his
injured arm."

"Monte romantic?" smiled Marjory. "That's the one thing in the world
he is n't."

"Just who is he, anyway?" inquired Beatrice.

"He's just Monte," answered Marjory.

"And Madame Monte--where is she? I noticed by the register there is
such a person."

"I--I think he said she had been called away--unexpectedly," Marjory
gasped.

She turned aside with an uncomfortable feeling that Beatrice had
noticed her confusion.

CHAPTER XIX

AN EXPLANATION

The following week Monte devoted himself wholly to the entertainment of
Marjory and her friends. He placed his car at their disposal, and
planned for them daily trips with the thoroughness of a courier, though
he generally found some excuse for not going himself. His object was
simple: to keep Marjory's days so filled that she would have no time
left in which to worry. He wanted to help her, as far as possible, to
forget the preceding week, which had so disturbed her. To this end
nothing could be better for her than Peter and Beatrice Noyes, who were
so simply and honestly plain, everyday Americans. They were just the
wholesome, good-natured companions she needed to offset the morbid
frame of mind into which he had driven her. Especially Peter. He was
good for her and she was good for him.

The more he talked with Peter Noyes the better he liked him. At the
end of the day--after seeing them star