He went on, his words sounding the note of masculine reason and
reassurance.

"You'll probably hear from her tomorrow, and you'll laugh together over
your fears of tonight. But if you take my advice, don't say anything
outside, don't tell anyone. You're liable to set the gossips talking, and
you never know when they'll stop. They might make it very unpleasant for
you both. Miss Chrystie doesn't want her schoolgirl tricks magnified into
scandals."

She nodded, brows drawn low, her teeth set on her underlip. If he had
convinced her of his innocence he saw he had not killed her anxieties.

"Is there any way I can help you?" he hazarded.

She shook her head. She had the appearance of having suddenly become
oblivious to him--not finding him a culprit, she had brushed him aside as
negligible.

"Then you'll go home and give up troubling about it?"

"I'll go home," she said, and with a deep sigh seemed to come back to the
moment and his presence. Moving to the table she picked up the letter.
Now that he was at ease, her face in its harassed care touched a
vulnerable spot. He was sorry for her.

"Don't take it so to heart, Miss Alston. I'm convinced it's going to turn
out all right."