Dexter’s coming along.” Standing out in the snow, he shouted: “Gayle! Come, now! Come!” to the unresponsive house; then, he got into the car.

“I’d like to speak to you for a minute, sir,” said Ross.

Mr. Solway observed how white and strained the young man’s face was, and he spoke to him very kindly.

“Well?” he said. “What is it, Moss?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave tomorrow, sir.”

“Leave, eh?”

“Yes, sir. I—it’s—family troubles, sir.”

“Married man?” asked Mr. Solway, in a low voice.

“No, sir,” said Ross. The honest sympathy in the other man’s tone made him sick with shame. “It’s a—a younger sister of mine.”

“Well, my boy,” said Mr. Solway, “I’m sorry, very sorry. You’re the sort of young fellow I like. Family troubles— Too bad! I’m sorry. Come back here any time you like.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Ross.

“Nonsense! Nonsense! You’re the type of young— Ha, Gayle! Step in! Step in. Start her up, Moss!”

Ross did so. He had never been more unhappy in his life than he was now, with his lie successfully accomplished.

“This finishes it!” he thought, as he drove back from the station. “I’m going to see Amy, and have it out with her. I’ll tell her about this Donnelly. I’ll warn her—”

And then go off and leave her to face the consequences alone?

“But, hang it all, she’s not alone!” he cried to himself. “She’s got Solway, and she’s got her Gayle. Why doesn’t she go to him? He’s the natural one to share her troubles.”

Unfortunately, however, he could not help understanding a little why Amy did not want to tell Gayle. He had had another good look at Gayle when he got out of the car at the station, and he was obliged to admit that there was something very uncompromising in that handsome face. Nobody, he thought, would want to tell Gayle Dexter a guilty secret.

“I suppose she doesn’t particularly mind my knowing anything,” he reflected, 

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