become my wife. It is fortunate that she made the mistake of sending the
letter she wrote you to me. It has put me in complete possession of the
facts of the case. I----"

"You have no right to come here uninvited and insult Grace Harlowe in
her own house," cut in Arline in a low, furious voice. "You shall not
accuse her of interfering. I won't allow it. It is----"

"Please allow Mr. Forde to say whatever he wishes, Arline." Grace's
interruption came with gentle dignity. Her gaze resting untroubled on
the angry man, she said: "I had no wish to interfere in your affairs,
Mr. Forde."

"Then why did you do it?" came the bitter retort. "What grudge could you
possibly have against a man you had never even met?"

"None whatever," was the soft answer.

"But you interfered. This letter proves as much." Triumphantly he jerked
the misdirected letter from a coat pocket.

Grace was silent. She did not wish to say that Arline had appealed to
her for advice, neither was she anxious to remain in the room as a third
party.

"I'll tell you the reason," volunteered Arline sharply. "I asked Grace's
advice." Her pretty face pale with resentment, Arline poured forth a
rapid outline of her talk with Grace. "That's the reason," she ended.
"If you had met me fairly when I tried to talk to you about my work this
would never have happened. I am glad now that it has. I don't love you
and never have truly loved you. I am glad to be free. I shall never
marry any one. All men are hateful! Now I wish you to go away, and
never, never speak to me again as long as you live!"

But the unpleasant interview continued for another ten minutes despite
Arline's pointed dismissal. Mr. Stanley Forde could not forgive Grace
for what he rudely termed her "meddling." The idolized son of a
too-adoring, snobbish mother, he had nothing in common with Grace's high
ideals. Though she explained to him gently that she had only advised
Arline to choose whichever course seemed wisest, remembering only that
nothing counted so much as being true to herself, her lofty precepts
merely tended further to infuriate him.

"You are one of those empty-headed idealists who go about creating
disturbances for sensible persons," was the scathing criticism he
delivered the moment she ceased speaking. "You will regret this
interference in my affairs. Now that you know my opinion of you, will
you kindly leave us? I wish to talk privately with Arline."

"I don't wish to talk to y