"Well!" he demanded, sternly, of the girl outside.
"I spoiled your letter," she said. "Eddie’ll never get it."
"What? I’ll write another——”
"You’d better not do that, Vincent. He wouldn’t be pleased with the way you’ve acted."
"Perhaps not; but it’s my duty——”
"Don’t any of them know? Not your mother or any one?"
"Of course not. I’m not the sort to tell such a thing. If it wasn’t my duty now, I wouldn’t."
"I thought it was to get money to help me out."
"Well—yes, partly; but he really ought to know, in case he still thinks of marrying you."
"No," she said quietly. "He mustn’t know. Look here, Vincent! I’ve done this one bad thing in my life. I never did anything bad before, and I never will again; but if it was known, I’d never be forgiven. I’d never get another chance—from any one; and I mean to have another chance. It’s never going to be known. I’m not going to be ruined and wasted, just for one—badness. It’s going to be wiped out, I tell you!"