“I declare,” exclaimed Miss Raleigh, “I had not heard of that!  Mrs. Easterfield made me her confidant in the early stages of this affair, or I should say, these affairs.  But she has not told me that.”

“She will doubtless give herself that pleasure later,” said Locker.

“No,” said she, “she will not think any more about it.  I am of no further use.  And may I ask if you know anything about the two other gentlemen?”

“Both turned down,” said Locker.

“I might have supposed that,” answered the lady; “for if Miss Asher would not take you she certainly would not be content with either of them.”

“With all my heart I thank you,” said Locker warmly.  “Such words are welcome to a wounded heart.”

For a moment Miss Raleigh was silent, then she remarked, “It is very hard to be discarded.”

“You are right there!” exclaimed Locker.  “But how do you happen to know anything about it?”

“I have been discarded myself,” she answered.

The larger eye of Mr. Locker grew still larger, the other endeavored to emulate its companion’s size; and his mouth became a rounded opening.  “Discarded?” he cried.

“Yes,” said she.

The countenance of the young man was now bright with interest and curiosity.  “I don’t suppose it would be right to ask you,” said he, “even although I have taken you so completely into my confidence—­but, never mind.  Don’t think of it.  Of course, I would not propose such a question.”

“Of course not,” said she, “you are too manly for that.”  And then she was silent again.  Naturally she hesitated to reveal the secrets of her heart, and to a gentleman with whom her acquaintance was of such recent date; but she earnestly wanted to repose confidence in another, as well as to receive it, and it was so seldom, so very seldom, that such an opportunity came to her.

“I do not know,” she said, “that I ought to, but still—­”

“Oh, don’t, if you don’t want to,” said Locker.

“But I think I do want to,” she replied.  “You are so kind, so good, and you have confided in me.  Yes, I was once discarded, not exactly by word of mouth, or even by message, but still discarded.”

“A stranger to me, of course,” said Locker, his whole form twisting itself into an interrogation-point.

“No,” said she, “and as I have begun I will go on.  It was Mr. Hemphill.”

“What!” he exclaimed.  “That—­”

“Yes, it was he,” said she, speaking slowly, and in a low voice.  “He was Mr. Easterfield’s secretary and I was Mrs. Easterfield’s secretary, and, of course, we were thrown much together.  He has very good qualities; I do not hesitate now to say that; and they impressed themselves upon me.  In every possible way I endeavored to make things pleasant for him.  I do not believe that when he was at work he ever wanted a glass of cold water that he did not find it within reach.  I early discovered that he was very fond of cold water.”