expect this."

"I know what you mean, Mr. Gregory," I replied, more calmly than I had
spoken before; "I know that I have accepted your attentions--you have had
every reason to expect a different answer. I'll not try to deceive you,
or keep anything from you. I'll tell you that I have not been trifling.
I have understood you for some time----"

He interrupted me here.

"Yes, you must have done so; my attentions to you could have but one
interpretation, if I were a man of honor, and you knew I was that."

"I did, indeed," I exclaimed. And then my mind went, with a flash like
lightning, to Randolph Chance, and I felt a sudden resentment. Had not
he shown me attentions that no man of honor can bestow upon a woman,
unless he wishes to make her his wife? Why had he left me in this
strait? Why had he not spoken out? Why had he not claimed before the
world that which he had taken such pains to win? I was uncertain about
Randolph Chance; I had never been uncertain about Mr. Gregory. Why?
Because I had perfect confidence in his honor. Was he not the better
man--the more trustworthy? Why could I not marry him? I loved another
man. A wave of shame and anger swept my face.

"I have all along been expecting to marry you. I have not been
trifling," I cried out.

He stepped forward, and took my hand. It was as cold as ice.

"What is it then, Constance, that has changed you? Have I done anything
since your illness to make you think less of me?"

I trembled from head to foot, and my lips were so stiff and dry that
they scarce would do my bidding. I must have spoken very indistinctly.

"No--no," I said slowly; "I will tell you everything--I have done you a
wrong, an unintentional wrong, but I will do penance--I have seen myself
to-night--" I paused here; Mr. Gregory was a practical man; had I told
him that a vision had changed my attitude, he would have thought me
insane. I myself had begun to entertain doubts as to my sanity. "I know
myself now," I faltered, "I know my heart--I love another man."

Mr. Gregory rose, and began pacing the floor.

"This surprises me greatly," he said at length; "there must have been
another courtship--it would seem that you must have known something of
how matters were tending."

"I have known nothing until to-night. There has been no courtship, in
the ordinary acceptation of that word--I'll tell you all, even if it
humbles me completely, as a penalty for what I have done to you. The
man I love