eat deal to any one who is really in earnest. What do you want with me
now? I am just going downstairs to supper."

"It is a matter of business," Tavernake replied. "I have a friend who
is a partner with me in the Marston Rise building speculation, and he is
worried because there is some one else in the field wanting to buy the
property, and the day after to-morrow is our last chance of paying over
the money."

She looked at him as though puzzled.

"What money?"

"The money which you agreed to lend me, or rather to invest in our
building company," he reminded her.

She nodded.

"Of course! Why, I had forgotten all about it for the moment. You are
going to give me ten per cent interest or something splendid, aren't
you? Well, what about it? You don't want to take it away with you now, I
suppose?"

"No," he answered, "it isn't that. To be honest with you, I came to make
sure that you hadn't changed your mind."

"And why should I change my mind?"

"You might be angry with me," he said, "for interfering in your concerns
the night before last."

"Perhaps I am," she remarked, indifferently.

"Do you wish to withdraw from your promise?" he asked.

"I really haven't thought much about it," she replied, carelessly.
"By-the-bye, have you seen Beatrice lately?"

"We agreed, I think," he reminded her, "that we would not talk about
your sister."

She looked at him over her shoulder.

"I do not remember that I agreed to anything of the sort," she declared.
"I think it was you who laid down the law about that. As a matter of
fact, I think that your silence about her is very unkind. I suppose you
have seen her?"

"Yes, I have seen her," Tavernake admitted.

"She continues to be tragic," Elizabeth asked, "whenever my name is
mentioned?"

"I should not call it tragic," Tavernake answered, reluctantly. "One
gathers, however, that something transpired between you before she left,
of a serious nature."

She looked at him earnestly.

"Really," she said, "you are a strange, stolid young man. I wonder," she
went on, smiling into his face, "are you in love with my sister?"

Tavernake made no immediate response, only something flashed for a
moment in his eyes which puzzled her.

"Why do you look at me like that?" she demanded. "You are not angry with
me for asking?"

"No, I am not angry," he replied. "It isn't that. But you must know--you
must see!"

Then she indeed did see that he was laboring under a very grea