how you ever came to see those
words from my miserable diary!"

"It makes me mad even now when I think of it!" she declared, vainly
attempting to release her hand. "You great big stupid; do you not know
what you did?"

"I only know that I wrote those vain-glorious lines and that you must
have read them," I said.

"I did not read them! Oh, I could box your ears! While you were
composing that rhapsody Mr. Chilvers and others came along and asked you
to play golf with them. Golf being more important than anything else on
earth, you rushed up stairs for your clubs and left that diary on the
table. Do you remember that on your way to the first-tee you met Miss
Ross, Miss Dangerfield and me?"

I remember it.

"When we arrived on the veranda," she continued with rising indignation,
"Miss Dangerfield picked up that literary treasure of yours and of
course opened it to the page from which I have been quoting. And then
she read it to us! I never was so mortified and angry in my life. I
rushed away from them, and when you found me I was so angry that I
could have killed you. It was not a declaration of your love for me; it
was a declaration of my love for you!"

I could not help laughing, and then she did box my ears.

"That little minx of a Miss Dangerfield busied herself until your return
from your golf game in copying from your diary its choicest extracts,"
continued Grace, after we had "made up," "but I managed to get them away
from her, and I have them yet. Some of them were--well, they were nicer
than the one Miss Dangerfield read."

"Which one, for instance?"

"I won't flatter your vanity by repeating them. But when I received your
letter and had thought it over several days I decided to forgive you,
Jack, and so I wrote you that letter."

"But I never received a letter from you!" I exclaimed.

On comparing dates we found that I had left Albuquerque before the
letter could arrive there, and that it probably had not been forwarded
to Woodvale in time so that I would get it prior to my sailing.

"It was a cold and formal letter," she said, trying to look severe.

"I don't care anything about the old letter, sweetheart," I declared,
"now that I have found you."

And then we laughed and cried and were very happy. It seems that Miss
Dangerfield gave the diary to the steward, who must have sent it to my
rooms, for I have no recollection of missing it at any time.

We talked of many, many things as we sat there