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crossed the room and picked it up； but almost at
once she dropped it with a low cry。
‘‘Billy！ HesawBilly！'' Then a flood
of understanding dyed her face scarlet as she
turned and fled to the blessedly unseeing walls
of her own room。
Not ten minutes later Rosa tapped at her door
with a note。
‘‘It's from Mr。 Arkwright； Miss。 He's downstairs。''
Rosa's eyes were puzzled； and a bit
startled。
‘‘Mr。 Arkwright！''
‘‘Yes； Miss。 He's come again。 That is； I
didn't know he'd wentbut he must have； for
he's come again now。 He wrote something in a
little book； then he tore it out and gave it to me。
He said he'd wait； please； for an answer。''
‘‘Oh； very well； Rosa。''
Miss Greggory took the note and spoke with
an elaborate air of indifference that was meant to
express a calm ignoring of the puzzled questioning
in the other's eyes。 The next moment she read
this in Arkwright's peculiar scrawl：
‘‘If you've already forgiven the unforgivable；
you'll do it again； I know； and come down…stairs。
Won't you； please？ I want to see you。''
Miss Greggory lifted her head with a jerk。
Her face was a painful red。
‘‘Tell Mr。 Arkwright I can't possibly'' She
came to an abrupt pause。 Her eyes had encountered
Rosa's； and in Rosa's eyes the puzzled questioning
was plainly fast becoming a shrewd suspicion。
There was the briefest of hesitations； then；
lightly； Miss Greggory tossed the note aside。
‘‘Tell Mr。 Arkwright I'll be down at once；
please；'' she directed carelessly； as she turned
back into the room。
But she was not down at once。 She was not
down until she had taken time to bathe her red
eyes； powder her telltale nose； smoothe her ruffled
hair； and whip herself into the calm； steady…eyed；
self…controlled young woman that Arkwright
finally rose to meet when she came into the room。
‘‘I thought it was only women who were privileged
to change their mind；'' she began brightly；
but Arkwright ignored her attempt to conventionalize
the situation。
‘‘Thank you for coming down；'' he said； with
a weariness that instantly drove the forced smile
from the girl's lips。 ‘‘II wanted toto talk
to you。''
‘‘Yes？'' She seated herself and motioned him
to a chair near her。 He took the seat； and then
fell silent； his eyes out the window。
‘‘I thought you said youyou wanted to
talk； she reminded him nervously； after a
minute。
‘‘I did。'' He turned with disconcerting abruptness。
‘‘Alice； I'm going to tell you a story。''
I shall be glad to listen。 People always like
stories； don't they？''
‘‘Do they？'' The somber pain in Arkwright's
eyes deepened。 Alice Greggory did not know it；
but he was thinking of another story he had once
told in that same room。 Billy was his listener
then； while now A little precipitately he began
to speak。
‘‘When I was a very small boy I went to visit
my uncle； who； in his young days； had been quite
a hunter。 Before the fireplace in his library was
a huge tiger skin with a particularly lifelike head。
The first time I saw it I screamed； and ran and
hid。 I refused then even to go into the room
again。 My cousins urged； scolded； pleaded； and
laughed at me by turns； but I was obdurate。 I
would not go where I could see the fearsome thing
again； even though it was； as they said； ‘nothing
but a dead old rug！'
‘‘Finally； one day； my uncle took a hand in the
matter。 By sheer will…power he forced me to go
with him straight up to the dreaded creature； and
stand by its side。 He laid one of my shrinking
hands on the beast's smooth head； and thrust
the other one quite into the open red mouth with
its gleaming teeth。
‘‘ ‘You see；' he said； ‘there's absolutely nothing
to fear。 He can't possibly hurt you。 Just as
if you weren't bigger and finer and stronger in
every way than that dead thing on the floor！'
‘‘Then； when he had got me to the point where
of my own free will I would walk up and touch
the thing； he drew a lesson for me。
‘‘ ‘Now remember；' he charged me。 ‘Never
run and hide again。 Only cowards do that。
Walk straight up and face the thing。 Ten to one
you'll find it's nothing but a dead skin masquerading
as the real thing。 Even if it isn't if it's
aliveface it。 Find a weapon and fight it。
Know that you are going to conquer it and
you'll conquer。 Never run。 Be a man。 Men
don't run； my boy！' ''
Arkwright paused； and drew a long breath。 He
did not look at the girl in the opposite chair。 If
he had looked he would have seen a face transfigured。
‘‘Well；'' he resumed； ‘‘I never forgot that tiger
skin； nor what it stood for； after that day when
Uncle Ben thrust my hand into its hideous； but
harmless； red mouth。 Even as a kid I began；
then； to trynot to run。 I've tried ever since
But to…dayI did run。''
Arkwright's voice had been getting lower and
lower。 The last three words would have been
almost inaudible to ears less sensitively alert than
were Alice Greggory's。 For a moment after the
words were uttered； only the clock's ticking broke
the silence； then； with an obvious effort； the man
roused himself； as if breaking away from some
benumbing force that held him。
‘‘Alice； I don't need to tell you； after what I
said the other night； that I loved Billy Neilson。
That was bad enough； for I found she was pledged
to another man。 But to…day I discovered something
worse： I discovered that I loved Billy _Henshaw_
another man's wife。 AndI ran。 But
I've come back。 I'm going to face the thing。 Oh；
I'm not deceiving myself！ This love of mine is
no dead tiger skin。 It's a beast； alive and alert
God pity me！to destroy my very soul。 But
I'm going to fight it； andI want you to help
me。''
The girl gave a half…smothered cry。 The man
turned； but he could not see her face distinctly。
Twilight had come； and the room was full of
shadows。 He hesitated； then went on； a little
more quietly。
‘‘That's why I've told you all thisso you
would help me。 And you will； won't you？''
There was no answer。 Once again he tried to
see her face； but it was turned now quite away
from him。
‘‘You've been a big help already； little girl。
Your friendship； your comradeshipthey've
been everything to me。 You're not going to make
me do without themnow？''
‘‘Nooh； no！'' The answer was low and a
little breathless； but he heard it。
‘‘Thank you。 I knew you wouldn't。'' He
paused； then rose to his feet。 When he spoke
again his voice carried a note of whimsical
lightness that was a little forced。 ‘‘But I must go
else you _will_ take them from me； and with good
reason。 And please don't let your kind heart
grieve too muchover me。 I'm no deep…dyed
villain in a melodrama； nor wicked lover in a ten…
penny novel； you know。 I'm just an everyday
man in real life； and we're going to fi