" she said.

"He can't be much longer. I don't think you need be disturbed."

"I am disturbed," Sylvia declared. "I really shouldn't have come
to-day; you will remember I hesitated."

"Then it was a temptation?"

Sylvia smiled rather wistfully. "That must be confessed; I need a
little stir and brightness and I so seldom get it. You know Muriel; I
owe her a good deal, but she's so dull and she makes you feel that
everything you like to do is wrong."

"But you haven't been very long with Mrs. Lansing. Wasn't it different
in Canada?" Bland had a reason for venturing on the question, though
it was rather a delicate one.

"I can hardly bear to think of it! For four months in the year I was
shut up, half-frozen, in a desolate homestead. There was deep snow all
round the place; nobody came. It was a day's drive to a forlorn
settlement; nothing ever broke the dreary monotony. In summer one got
worn out with the heat and the endless petty troubles. There was not a
moment's rest; the house was filled with plowmen and harvesters,
uncouth barbarians who ate at our table and must be waited on."

Bland was moved to pity; but he was also consoled. As she had not
mentioned Marston, she could not greatly have felt his loss. Sylvia
must have married young; no doubt, before she knew her mind.

"I wish," he said quietly, "I could do something to make your life a
little brighter."

"But you can't. I've had one happy day--and I'm grateful. It must
last me a while."

He leaned forward, looking at her with an intent expression.

"Sylvia, give me the right to try."

She shrank from him with a start that was partly natural, for she was
not quite prepared for a bold avowal.

"No," she said in alarm. "How can I do that?"

"Don't you understand me, Sylvia? I want the right to take care of
you."

She checked him with a gesture.

"It is you who can't understand. Do you think I'm heartless?"

"Nothing could make me think hardly of you," he declared.

"Then show me some respect and consideration. It was what I looked
for; I felt I was safe with you."

Though he had not expected strong opposition, he saw that she was
determined. He had been too precipitate, and while he had no idea of
abandoning his purpose, he bowed.

"If I've offended, you must forgive me--I thought of nothing beyond my
longing for you. That won't change or diminish, but I've been rash and
have startled you. I must wait."

He watched h