Part 22 (2/2)

”Miss Farnum,” he said, humbly and sincerely, ”better men than _I_ have made mistakes. May I wish you every happiness? The same to you, Clayton, with all my heart. Good-bye.”

He turned and walked from the room. Not until he had gone did Martha dare to look Clayton squarely in the face.

”I was going to write you this morning,” she said, ”to tell you that I am going home.”

”Without your manager's permission? Not even a two weeks' notice?”

”Do be serious, please,” she pleaded. Then with a sudden outburst of pa.s.sion: ”I've failed in everything I ever tried.”

”You haven't failed in my eyes,” declared Clayton, taking her hand, while she turned away from him. ”You have merely missed one opportunity you had dreamed of.”

”Yesterday I dreamed, but to-day I am awake. I am going home.”

Clayton reached over and took her other hand, then swung her around so that she faced him and could not evade his direct glance.

”Didn't I tell Gordon I was going to marry you?” he demanded. ”I've run out of all my other fads, and now my latest fad is trying to run away from me.”

Martha gazed up at him coquettishly. ”You mean you want to marry me just to see what I'll do?” she pouted.

”That's one of the reasons, not to mention loving you,” replied Clayton, in a brisk, businesslike tone. ”Well?”

Martha paused a moment. ”Do you remember,” she asked, ”once you said the greatest success meant nothing if the right person did not share it with you?”

”Yes.”

”You were right. And now I know that the greatest failure also means nothing, if the right person _does_ share it with you.”

Clayton held out his arms entreatingly.

”I think I'm going to like my latest fad immensely,” he whispered.

”And I shall try to stick longer than any of the others, even the postage stamps,” she answered, as she nestled in his arms.

THE END

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