When? Where? What should she say? Where was her right to say anything? She was not dealing with a parcel of naughty children who had pilfered the cake jar! She was dealing with grown men and women, who, presumedly, knew their own affairs, and who, certainly, would resent any interference from her. On the other hand, could she stand calmly by and see Bertram lose his wife, Arkwright his honor, Billy her happiness, and herself her faith in human nature, all because to do otherwise would be to meddle in other people's business? Apparently she could, and should. At least that seemed to be the r<o^>le which she was expected to play.
It was when Alice had reached this unhappy frame of mind that Arkwright himself unexpectedly opened the door for her.
The two were alone together in Bertram Henshaw's den. It was Tuesday afternoon. Alice had called to find Billy and Arkwright deep in their usual game of chess. Then a matter of domestic affairs had taken Billy from the room.
``I'm afraid I'll have to be gone ten minutes, or more,'' she had said, as she rose from the table reluctantly. ``But you might be showing Alice the moves, Mr. Arkwright,'' she had added, with a laugh, as she disappeared.
``Shall I teach you the moves?'' he had smiled, when they were alone together.
Alice's reply had been so indignantly short and sharp that Arkwright, after a moment's pause, had said, with a whimsical smile that yet carried a touch of sadness:
``I am forced to surmise from your answer that you think it is _you_ who should be teaching _me_ moves. At all events, I seem to have been making some moves lately that have not suited you, judging by your actions. Have I offended you in any way, Alice?''
The girl turned with a quick lifting of her head.
Alice knew that if ever she were to speak, it must be now. Never again could she hope for such an opportunity as this. Suddenly throwing circumspect caution quite aside, she determined that she would speak. Springing to her feet she crossed the room and seated herself in Billy's chair at the chess-table.
``Me! Offend me!'' she exclaimed, in a low voice. ``As if I were the one you were offending!''
``Why, _Alice!_'' murmured the man, in obvious stupefaction.
Alice raised her hand, palm outward.
``Now don't, _please_ don't pretend you don't know,'' she begged, almost piteously. ``Please don't add that to all the rest. Oh, I understand, of course, it's none of my affairs, and I wasn't going to speak,'' she choked; ``but, to-day, when you gave me this chance, I had to. At first Icouldn't believe it,'' she plunged on, plainly hurrying against Billy's return. ``After all you'd told me of how you meant to fight it--your tiger skin. And I thought it merely _happened_that you were here alone with her those days Icame. Then, when I found out they were _always_the days Mr. Henshaw was away at the doctor's, I had to believe.''
She stopped for breath. Arkwright, who, up to this moment had shown that he was completely mystified as to what she was talking about, suddenly flushed a painful red. He was obviously about to speak, but she prevented him with a quick gesture.
``There's a little more I've got to say, please.
As if it weren't bad enough to do what you're doing _at all_, but you must needs take it at such a time as this when--when her husband _isn't_doing just what he ought to do, and we all know it--it's so unfair to take her now, and try to--to win-- And you aren't even fair with him,''
she protested tremulously. ``You pretend to be his friend. You go with him everywhere. It's just as if you were _helping_ to--to pull him down.
You're one with the whole bunch.'' (The blood suddenly receded from Arkwright's face, leaving it very white; but if Alice saw it, she paid no heed.) ``Everybody says you are. Then to come here like this, on the sly, when you know he can't be here, I-- Oh, can't you see what you're doing?''
There was a moment's pause, then Arkwright spoke. A deep pain looked from his eyes. He was still very pale, and his mouth had settled into sad lines.
``I think, perhaps, it may be just as well if Itell you what I _am_ doing--or, rather, trying to do,'' he said quietly.
Then he told her.
``And so you see,'' he added, when he had finished the tale, ``I haven't really accomplished much, after all, and it seems the little I have accomplished has only led to my being misjudged by you, my best friend.''
