THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
Having determined upon this course, Armitage discovered that he was still young. As he stepped out of the Grand Central, into the crisp air and fading sunshine of a winter day, it seemed to him that he had miraculously dropped the pall behind.
The butler smiled pleasantly as he took Armitage's hat and coat.
"There is a fire in the study, sir. Miss Athelstone will be down in a moment."
Armitage went into the study and approached the fire, spreading out his hands toward the heat, for it was now sharp weather outside. It was odd, but he never entered this room without the feeling that he was in the middle of some fantastic dream. He saw the photograph on the mantel. It fascinated him, and by and by he took it down and turned it over. Bits of an old newspaper adhered to the back. The photographer's name was gone. The adoration in the girl's eyes whenever she gazed at this sublime mockery! The full depression of the day rolled tack over his heart. He wanted to lay his head on his arms and weep.
"God help me!" he said, aloud.
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