n he had given her the name that now was all he
could think of, and the only word that rose to his feverish lips.

"Yerba!"

"I like to hear you say it," she said quickly, as if to gloss over his
first omission of her formal prefix, and leaning a little forward, with
her eyes on his. "One would think you had created it. You almost make
me regret to lose it."

He stopped. He felt that the last sentence had saved him. "It is of
that I want to speak," he broke out suddenly and almost rudely. "Are
you satisfied that it means nothing, and can mean nothing, to you?
Does it awaken no memory in your mind--recall nothing you care to know?
Think! I beg you, I implore you to be frank with me!"

She looked at him with surprise.

"I have told you already that my present name must be some absurd
blunder, or some intentional concealment. But why do you want to know
NOW?" she continued, adding her faint smile to the emphasis.

"To help you!" he said, eagerly. "For that alone! To do all I can to
assist you, if you really believe, and want to believe, that you have
another. To ask you to confide in me; to tell me all you have been
told, all that you know, think you know, or WANT to know about your
relationship to the Arguellos--or to--any one. And then to devote
myself entirely to proving what you shall say is your desire. You see,
I am frank with you, Yerba. I only ask you to be as frank with me; to
let me know your doubts, that I may counsel you; your fears, that I may
give you courage."

"Is that all you came here to tell me?" she asked quietly.

"No, Yerba," he said, eagerly, taking her unresisting but indifferent
hand, "not all; but all that I must say, all that I have the right to
say, all that you, Yerba, would permit me to tell you NOW. But let me
hope that the day is not far distant when I can tell you ALL, when you
will understand that this silence has been the hardest sacrifice of the
man who now speaks to you."

"And yet not unworthy of a rising politician," she added, quickly
withdrawing her hand. "I agree," she went on, looking towards the
door, yet without appearing to avoid his eager eyes, "and when I have
settled upon 'a local habitation and a name' we shall renew this
interesting conversation. Until then, as my fourth official guardian
used to say--he was a lawyer, Mr. Hathaway, like yourself--when he was
winding up his conjectures on the subject--all that has passed is to be
considered 'withou