"I suppose he means them—in the first place, at least—to try to talk you over." "Have I kept you off to-day?" Fleda sadly shook her head, raising her arms a little and dropping them.!

"Then why doesn't he marry her? He's giving you an extraordinary chance." "Marry him if he were to ask me? Most distinctly not!"

"It displeased her fearfully," said Owen, looking very queer. She couldn't, however, succeed for so very many minutes in deferring her exposure. "Why didn't you wait, dearest? Ah, why didn't you wait?"—if that inconsequent appeal kept rising to her lips to be cut short before it was spoken, this was only because at first the humility of gratitude helped her to gain time, enabled her to present herself very honestly as too overcome to be clear. She kissed her companion's hands, she did homage at her feet, she murmured soft snatches of praise, and yet in the midst of it all was conscious that what she really showed most was the wan despair at her heart. She saw Mrs. Gereth's glimpse of this despair suddenly widen, heard the quick chill of her voice pierce through the false courage of endearments. "Do you mean to tell me at such an hour as this that you've really lost him?" "The one I've already made so clear to you: my having it in black and white, as you may say, from her that she freely gives him up."