. He threw out his hands.

"Remember," he said, "there is a promise between us. Don't break it.
Don't dare to break it!"

She looked at him curiously. A new idea concerning this man and his
avoidance of her crept into her mind. It was at least consoling to her
vanity, and it left her a chance. She had roused him too, at last, and
that was worth something.

"Why not?" she asked, moving a step towards him. "It was a foolish
promise. It has done neither of us any good. It has spoilt a part of my
life. Why should I keep silence, and let it go on to the end? Do you know
what it has made of me, this promise?"

He shrank back.

"Don't! I have done all I could!"

"All you could!" she repeated, scornfully. "You drew a diagram of your
duty, and you have moved like a machine along the lines. You talk like a
Pharisee, Lawrence! Come! You knew me years ago! Do you find me changed?
Tell me the truth."

"Yes," he admitted, "you are changed."

She nodded.

"You admit that. Perhaps, perhaps," she continued more slowly, "there are
things about me now of which you don't approve. My friends are a little
fast, I go out alone, I daresay people have said things. There, you see
I am very frank. I mean to be! I mean you to know that whatever I am, the
fault is yours."

"You are as God or the Devil made you," he answered, hardly. "You are
what you would have become, in any case."

"Lawrence!"

Already he hated the memory of his words. True or not, they were spoken
to a woman who was cowering under them as under a lash. He was at a
disadvantage now. If she had met him with anger they might have cried
quits. But he had seen her wince, seen her sudden pallor, and it was not
a pleasant sight.

"Forgive me," he said. "I do not know quite what I am saying. You have
broken a compact which I had hoped might have lasted all our days. Let us
be better friends, if you will, but let us keep that promise which we
made to one another."

"It was so many years ago," she said, in a low tone. "I am afraid to
think how many. It makes me lonely, Lawrence, to look ahead. I am afraid
of growing old!"

He looked at her steadily. Yes, the signs were there. She was a
good-looking woman to-day, a handsome woman in some lights, but she had
reached the limit. It was a matter of a few years at most, and then--He
stood with his hands behind his back.

"It is a fear which we must all share," he said, quietly. "The only
antidote is work."

"Work!" she