"I'll serve it—you may go!" said Stephanie. Then she looked at Pendleton. "Did you write me a letter?"
"I most assuredly did!" he replied.
"Do you care to tell me what was in it?"
"It was mainly an apology for what had occurred the previous evening."
"What else was in it?"
He smiled—"Nothing much—just a word or two of—regard."
She poured the tea, and broke off a bit of toast.
"I think," she remarked, examining the toast critically, yet watching Pendleton the while furtively from under the long lashes, "I think that letter alters the proposition somewhat. You did the decent thing promptly—and I'm sorry I didn't know it. I too said things that I didn't mean—and if you'll forgive me, Montague," holding out her hand to him, with a bewitching smile, "we will start afresh."
"If I'll forgive you, sweetheart!" he exclaimed.