“For me? I have no right to them.  What have I to do with Hynds jewels?” And then I stopped.  If Jessamine’s confession were true—­and I believed in my heart that every word Jessamine had written was the truth—­what right had I to Hynds House itself?  “As to that, I have no right to Hynds House, either.  It is yours,” I said.

He stared at me thoughtfully.

“It is yours,” I repeated, gaining courage.  “I am an outsider, to whom this house was left from motives of malice and revenge.  Mr. Jelnik, this thing must be set straight.  We will show Jessamine’s confession and clear Richard’s name.  We will bring Freeman’s diary forward to prove the truth of our assertions.  Then you can come into your own.”

“Ah!” said Mr. Jelnik, gently, “I see.  Quite simple, and perfectly feasible.  And after I have taken Hynds House, what of you?  What do you get?”

“I get out,” I said briefly.  And a horrid qualm came over me.  Leave Hynds House, forever?  Go away from Hyndsville, leaving this friendlier, pleasanter, happier life behind?

“You are forgetting my training,” I reminded him, trying to keep my voice steady.  “I can always do what I did before I came here.  I—­I’m really an excellent private secretary, Mr. Jelnik.”

“That,” said Mr. Jelnik, smiling curiously, “may very well be.  But I think the stars in their courses fought to bring you here.  And I really do not at all relish the notion of your turning backward into a private secretary, although there is, of course, the alternative of The Author.  And what of Alicia?”

“Alicia’s sense of justice is quite as well developed as mine,” I told him proudly.

“Alicia is a dear girl,” he agreed.  “But, my dear lady, your plan wouldn’t hold water in any court.  This place isn’t mine, legally or morally, though the jewels would be if I could find them.  If ever I do find them, which is highly improbable, I may be tempted to make you an offer of exchange.”

“You don’t want Hynds House?  Richard’s house?  You won’t take Hynds House?”

“I don’t want Hynds House.  I won’t take Hynds House.  Further, if anybody on earth but you made me such an offer, in such circumstances, I should find it hard to forgive.  Even from you I hardly think I could bear it twice.”  A bright red showed in his cheeks for an instant, his nostrils quivered, his whole face was a blaze of pride.  “What!  Nicholas Jelnik accept gifts from women?”

“As good and proud men as Nicholas Jelnik have accepted gifts from women, and been none the worse for it,” said I, tartly.  “You offered me your jewels.  Why shouldn’t I offer you my house?—­particularly when it should have been your house.  I also have my pride, Mr. Jelnik!”

The hauteur went out of his face, and something sweet and quizzical and boyish flooded it.

“Keep Hynds House, dear, dear Donna Quixotta,” said he, gently.  “You have given me something I needed a thousand times more.”