“‘You are very kind, I am sure, Mr. Kendall’ (she usually called me George), ’but I shall not want to go for ever so long yet.  It was needless for Phil to trouble you; he knew I should get home all right,—­but it was like him.  I am awfully sorry to keep you waiting:  I know you are anxious to get back to your pipe and books.’

“Here Herbert said something with the appearance of speaking to us both; but she only could hear what it was.  I, however, imagined readily enough.

“‘Will you?’ she answered him, in a pleased tone, and I fancied her smile was grateful.  ’Mr. Herbert is going to stay and dance a while longer,’ she went on, turning to me, ’and if he takes me home it will not seem as if I were troubling any one too much, and—­’

“‘Very well, Miss Preston,’ I interrupted, making my best bow; ’as you like.’  And when I saw the smile on Herbert’s face I didn’t wonder much at the way Phil had felt.  ‘Let me bid you good-night,’ I said, bowing again, and started off.

“Grace followed me rapidly into the hall.  ’Now, please don’t you be angry too, George,’ she said, laying her hand on my arm.

“‘I am not angry,’ I said.

“‘Do you think it right, George,’ she asked earnestly,—­and there was a pleading look in her eyes,—­’or manly to desert one’s friends in trouble?’

“‘I am doing the best I know how,’ said I, ‘to be true to my friend.’

“‘Oh, George, I am so sorry!’ Her voice trembled, and all her queenliness had gone.  ’You must not go off this way.  You don’t blame me as Phil does, do you?  Wait, I will get my things, and you shall walk home with me now.  I will see Phil and tell him—­’

“‘He has gone to my room,’ I said.

“’Well, I will wait till you bring him home.  You must tell him I forgive him,—­or no, tell him I am sorry and ask his forgiveness.  Oh, George, we cannot be this way.  Only think how sad it would make his father—­and—­’ There were tears on her lashes, and her lips were trembling piteously.  She put her hand to her throat and could not go on.  God forgive me if I was wrong,—­and I know I was,—­but I couldn’t help it then,—­I asked, almost with a sneer, if she didn’t dislike to slight her estimable friend Mr. Herbert’s kindness; and she turned away without a word, as if regretting, from my unworthiness, the emotion she had shown.

“I was in very nearly as bad a state as Phil for a while.  I told him just how I had acted, and he was rather pleased than otherwise at my cruelty.  We tried hard to make ourselves believe that Grace had deserved it, and to a certain extent succeeded.

“‘She probably thought it was too high a price,’ said Phil, ’when she saw both of us going off offended, and she concluded not to give it.  But, then, it was just like her,’ he added, in a kindlier spirit than the natural interpretation of his words seemed to indicate.