"
She perceived that she had completely failed in her intention.
"What are you going to do with it?" he inquired, with an easy
assumption of friendliness calculated to put her more completely at
her ease with him.
"I don't know. For the present, I shall put it back in my desk."
"Better take my advice and destroy it," he persisted. "It--er--is not
valuable evidence. Or--I believe on second thought I shall accept
your suggestion and return it myself to its probable owner."
He was actually laughing, his eyes brimming with boyish mischief.
"I think it belongs to Miss Dix," he told her audaciously.
"To Miss Dix?" she echoed.
"Yes; why not? Don't you see the fair Ellen among the group?"
Her eyes blazed suddenly upon him; her lips trembled.
"Forgive me!" he cried, aghast at his own folly.
She retreated before his outstretched hands.
"I didn't mean to--to make light of what appears so serious a matter
to you," he went on impetuously. "It is only that it is _not_
serious; don't you see? It is such a foolish little mistake. It must
not come between us, Lydia!"
"Please go away, at once," she interrupted him breathlessly,
"and--and _think_ of what I have said to you. Perhaps you didn't
believe it; but you _must_ believe it!"
Then, because he did not stir, but instead stood gazing at her, his
puzzled eyes full of questions, entreaties, denials, she quietly
closed a door between them. A moment later he heard her hurrying feet
upon the stair.
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