It was half-past twelve o'clock. Major Kent, in spite of the excitement of the afternoon, was sound asleep when he was roused by a sharp knocking at his door. He sat up in bed and struck a match.
"Good gracious, J. J.," he said, "what on earth do you want at this time of night? Why aren't you asleep?"
"I couldn't sleep," said Meldon, "with the feeling on my mind that I had been doing a wrong—quite without malice and under circumstances which excuse it, but still doing a wrong to Miss King."
"You mean in mistaking her—"
"Quite so."
"That'll be all right, J. J. Don't worry about it. Go back to bed again."
"I'm not worrying in the least," said Meldon. "I never worry; but when I've done a wrong to anybody, I like to make amends at once."
"You can't do anything to-night. It's too late. Do go back to bed."
"I have done something. I've made amends, and here they are. I want you to give them to her to-morrow morning."