t been to see us. What did Chyd
say?"

"Not much of anything--said that so long as people were romantic they
must expect trouble."

She frowned and thus replied: "A good authority on the evils of
romance."

"Why not an expert on the thrills of romance?" I asked. "Hasn't he
played up and down the brook?"

"So have the ducks," she answered, with a return of her smile. "But let
us not talk about him--I would rather not think about him."

I could not play the part of a hero; I was not of the stock that had
stood at the stake glorifying the deed with a hymn. I had wanted to drop
the subject, not because it was painful to her, but because it pressed a
spike into my own flesh; but her wish to dismiss him from her mind urged
me to keep him there, to torture her with him. Brute? Surely; I have
never denied it, but I loved her, and in love there is no generosity.
The lover who seeks to be liberal is a hypocrite, a sneak-thief robbing
his own heart.

"But how can you put him out of your mind if he is worthy of your love?"
I asked. "You did not place him therein, nor can you take him away."

She looked at me a long time, looked at me and read me; she did not
frown, she smiled not, but searched me with her eyes until I felt that
my motive lay bare under her gaze. "You would help Alf in his trouble,"
she said, "but you would throw a trouble at me."

How sadly she spoke those words, and my heart fell under them and lay at
her feet in sorrow and in humiliation. I strove to beg for pardon, but I
stammered and my words were almost meaningless.

"Oh, you have my forgiveness, if that is what you are trying to ask for.
Now, please don't say anything more. I know you didn't mean to make me
feel bad."

"I think I'd better cut my throat!" I replied, taking up a table knife.

She laughed at me. "How can a big man be so silly? Cut your throat,
indeed. Why, what have you done to deserve it?"

"What have I done?" I cried, leaning over the table and making a fumble,
as if I would take her hand--"what have I done? I have wantonly wounded
the divinest creature----"

She was on her feet in an instant; she put her hands to her ears and
shook her head at me. "No, you must not say that. Don't you see I can't
hear what you say? So, what is the use of saying anything? Think you are
a brute? No, I don't; but you must not talk like that. I can't hear
you--I won't hear you. Oh, don't worry about Mr. Lundsford. He will
kneel at my feet."