“I am as much in the dark as yourself, Fenerty.  I own that I hoped to win her myself, and I feel the disappointment—­keenly.”

“Traverse, I hope you will not think me a meddling fool; but I would like to know if it is all up with the other one—­she of the letter, I mean.  You might tell a fellow that much.”

Traverse looked at him keenly.  He knew that Fenerty had a good heart, with all his bantering, and it was plain enough to all that his attentions to Dexie Sherwood could have but one significance.  Yet there must be a feeling in the mind of Fenerty, as well as others, that in the light of that letter he was not “off with the old love before he was on with the new.”  Should he trust Fenerty with the secret of the letter, and have at least one friend who would not think him dishonorable in the matter?

“Fenerty, how are you at keeping secrets?” he said at last.  “I never hear you parting with any, but whether that is owing to the fact that you have none to impart, or whether your secrets really are secrets, I am not able to guess.  I would like to tell you about that letter.  What are the prospects of it becoming public property?”

“’Pon honor, Traverse, you are a brute!  Do you think I would speak of it to my bosom friend, if I had one? and Heaven knows I haven’t!  But I have often thought of your possible death from unrequited love.  You must have been in a desperate way about the time that letter was written, hey, Traverse?”

“Fenerty, you are a great goose, and let me prove my words.  But first, while I think of it, never offer yourself as a detective, for the requirements needed are not included in your make-up.  Well, I never wrote that letter at all.  Miss Gussie was right in thinking the letter was her sister’s, but I guessed the truth before anyone had time to catch the horrified look that came into Miss Dexie’s face as she heard her letter read out to the crowd.  I felt I owed Miss Gussie one for the hateful trick, so claimed it as mine; and I piled on the agony pretty thick, if I remember rightly.  How does that solution of the mystery strike you, Fenerty, hey?”

“Traverse, you are right!” and he fell over against the wall, as if the news had been too much for him.  “You are right!  ’Pon honor, but that was a bright trick of yours to claim that letter!  I hope you appreciated the sympathy I expressed for you on that trying occasion.  Ha! ha!  But the fellow that wrote that letter had it pretty bad, eh, Traverse?  By George!  I’ll bet a hat she has given in at last.  That is where the ring came from!”

This referred to a little scene that had taken place in the T. and B. rooms.