oing," he grumbled; but he kept on
looking at her; she stood there, attractive as a woman of her age
could be, wise, considerate, full of friendship and affection.

"Letty," he said. "You ought not to want to marry me. I'm not worth
it. Really I'm not. I'm too cynical. Too indifferent. It won't be
worth anything in the long run."

"It will be worth something to me," she insisted. "I know what you
are. Anyhow, I don't care. I want you!"

He took her hands, then her arms. Finally he drew her to him, and
put his arms about her waist. "Poor Letty!" he said; "I'm not worth
it. You'll be sorry."

"No, I'll not," she replied. "I know what I'm doing. I don't care
what you think you are worth." She laid her cheek on his shoulder. "I
want you."

"If you keep on I venture to say you'll have me," he returned. He
bent and kissed her.

"Oh," she exclaimed, and hid her hot face against his breast.

"This is bad business," he thought, even as he held her within the
circle of his arms. "It isn't what I ought to be doing."

Still he held her, and now when she offered her lips coaxingly he
kissed her again and again.

CHAPTER LVI

It is difficult to say whether Lester might not have returned to
Jennie after all but for certain influential factors. After a time,
with his control of his portion of the estate firmly settled in his
hands and the storm of original feeling forgotten, he was well aware
that diplomacy--if he ignored his natural tendency to fulfil even
implied obligations--could readily bring about an arrangement
whereby he and Jennie could be together. But he was haunted by the
sense of what might be called an important social opportunity in the
form of Mrs. Gerald. He was compelled to set over against his natural
tendency toward Jennie a consciousness of what he was ignoring in the
personality and fortunes of her rival, who was one of the most
significant and interesting figures on the social horizon. For think
as he would, these two women were now persistently opposed in his
consciousness. The one polished, sympathetic,
philosophic--schooled in all the niceties of polite society, and
with the means to gratify her every wish; the other natural,
sympathetic, emotional, with no schooling in the ways of polite
society, but with a feeling for the beauty of life and the lovely
things in human relationship which made her beyond any question an
exceptional woman. Mrs. Gerald saw it and admitted it. Her criticism