working with Elnora, he saw more to admire. He grew very thankful that he was free to try to win her, and impatient to justify himself to her.
Elnora did not evince the slightest haste to hear what he had to say, but waited the week she had set, in spite of Philip's hourly manifest impatience. When she did consent to listen, Philip realized before he had talked five minutes that she was putting herself in Edith Carr's place, and judging him from what the other girl's stand-point would be. That was so disconcerting, he did not plead his cause nearly so well as he had hoped, for when he ceased Elnora sat in silence.
"You are my judge," he said at last. "What is your verdict?"
"If I could hear her speak from her heart as I just have heard you, then I could decide," answered Elnora.
"She is on the ocean," said Philip. "She went because she knew she was wholly in the wrong. She had nothing to say, or she would have remained."
"That sounds plausible," reasoned Elnora, "but it is pretty hard to find a woman in an affair that involves her heart, with nothing at all to say. I fancy if I could meet her just now she would say several things. I should love to hear them. If I could talk with her three minutes, I could tell what answer to make you."
"Don't you believe me, Elnora?"
"Unquestioningly," answered Elnora. "But I would believe her also. If only I could meet her I soon would know."
