Grace was not prepared to answer this pertinent question from the jilted Stanley's viewpoint. Personally she had a disagreeably clear idea of what he was quite likely to think. Yet she was too sturdily honest by nature to regret the advice she had given Arline in good faith. "I am sorry this has happened," she returned slowly, "but I am not sorry for what I said to you. I meant it. I would have said as much to Mr. Forde had an occasion risen which demanded plain speaking."
"You are Loyalheart, through and through," came impulsively from Arline. "You would stand by your colors to the death. I couldn't blame you if you were terribly angry with me for mixing you up so miserably in my affairs. I should have been more careful, but I was dreadfully upset when I wrote those letters. You see, Stanley came to my home on the evening of the day he returned from Oregon. As you know, I had decided to have a plain talk with him. It began pleasantly enough, but before it ended we were both very angry. He declared point-blank that after we were married I would positively have to give up my settlement work. He said a great many hateful, sneering things about the poor people I've been trying to help. I was going to give him back his ring then, but I remembered what you advised about not being too hasty. So I told him I wouldn't discuss the subject with him any more that evening.
"After that he was very pleasant. I suppose he thought he had won me over to his point of view. When he had gone I sat for a long time on the veranda thinking hard. Then I went upstairs to my room and wrote him, breaking our engagement. Of course I cried a little. I was so unhappy. Then I thought of you and felt like writing you about it. After I had written both letters, I read them over; first the one to him, then yours. It was after midnight and I was so tired. I suppose that is how I happened to make the mistake of putting your address on his letter and vice versa. He will be simply furious. I only hope that he doesn't write you a hateful letter. If he writes to me, I'll send the letter back unopened. You'd better do the same."
"No; I couldn't do that. It is perfectly proper for you to do so, but it would appear cowardly on my part. Let us hope he doesn't bother to write me. Does he know my surname and where I live?"
"Yes; I've told him of you a great many times. I wish now that I hadn't. I am sure he will write you. It's a shame. I came to Oakdale to comfort you and be comforted. Now I've landed both of us in a nice muddle." Arline lifted a pair of mournful blue eyes to Grace.
In the presence of impending tragedy a sudden sense of the ridiculous swept the two girls. Their eyes meeting, they began to laugh. It was the first genuine mirth that had stirred Grace Harlowe since the day on which she had left the Briggs' cottage to return to Oakdale.
"One ought not laugh over such a serious matter," apologized Arline, with a half hysterical chuckle. "But I can't help thinking how surprised you must have been to receive that letter to Stanley, and how wrathful he must be by this time."
"I'd rather laugh over it than cry," smiled Grace. "Don't worry, Daffydowndilly. I'm not afraid of any letter that Mr. Stanley Forde may choose to send me. You had better write him another letter at once, though, and explain matters. You owe him that, at least."
"I will," sighed Arline. "There's just one thing more I have to say. I shall never, never fall in love again. It's fatal to one's peace of mind. Now that I've fallen out of love, I feel about a hundred years younger. I'm going to be a nice, kind, spinster and found a home for poor children."
Grace smiled at this naïve announcement. She was unselfishly glad that Arline could thus lightly cast her burden from her dainty shoulders. Perhaps she, too, would have known greater content, had love not entered her heart. Yet in the same instant she put away the thought as unworthy of herself. Come what might she was intensely sure that she had chosen the better part.