In the end the boy had not had the courage to destroy the letters as he had promised to do.  Instead he sent them both, together with the packet of evidence as to John Massey’s identity, to Alan Massey.

The thing was in Alan’s own hands at last.  Nothing could save or destroy him but himself.  And by a paradox his salvation depended upon his being strong enough to bring himself to ruin.

CHAPTER XVI

IN WHICH PHIL GETS HIS EYES OPENED

At home on her Hill Tony Holiday settled down more or less happily after her eventful sally into the great world.  To the careless observer she was quite the same Tony who went down the Hill a few weeks earlier.  If at times she was unusually quiet, had spells of sitting very still with folded hands and far away dreams in her eyes, if she crept away by herself to read the long letters that came so often, from many addresses but always in the same bold, beautiful script and to pen long answers to these; if she read more poetry than was her wont and sang love songs with a new, exquisite, but rather heart breaking timbre in her lovely contralto voice, no one paid much attention to these signs except possibly Doctor Philip who saw most things.  He perceived regretfully that his little girl was slipping away from him, passing through some experience that was by no means all joy or contentment and which was making her grow up all too fast.  But he said nothing, quietly bided the hour of confidence which he felt sure would come sooner or later.

Tony puzzled much over the complexities of life these days, puzzled over other things beside her own perverse romance.  Carlotta too was much on her mind.  She wished she could wave a magic wand and make things come right for these two friends of hers who were evidently made for each other as Hal had propounded.  She wondered if Phil were as unhappy as Carlotta was and meant to find out in her own time and way.

She had seen almost nothing of him since her return to the Hill.  He was working very hard in the store and never appeared at any of the little dances and picnics and teas with which the Dunbury younger set passed away the summer days and nights, and which Ted and the twins and usually Tony herself frequented.  Larry never did.  He hated things of that sort.  But Phil was different.  He had always liked fun and parties and had always been on hand and in great demand hitherto at every social function from a Ladies’ Aid strawberry festival to a grand Masonic ball.  It wasn’t natural for Phil to shut himself out of things like that.  It was a bad sign Tony thought.

At any rate she determined to find out for herself how the land lay if she could.  Having occasion to do some shopping she marched down the Hill and presented herself at Stuart Lambert and Son’s, demanding to be served by no less a person than Philip himself.

“I want a pair of black satin pumps with very frivolous heels,” she announced.  “Produce them this instant, slave.”  She smiled at Phil and he smiled back.  He and Tony had always been the best of chums.