word to Ben that she wished to see him
at once, and he responded without delay.

He was appalled by the change in her. Her interview with Haney had
profoundly weakened her, chilled her. She was like some exquisite lamp
whose golden flame had grown suddenly dim, and Fordyce was filled with
instant, remorseful tenderness. His sense of duty sprang to arms, and
without waiting for her to begin he said: "I hate to think of you as a
pensioner in this house. You should be in your own home--our home--where
I could take care of you. Come, let me take you out of this private
hospital--that's what it is."

She struggled piteously to assure him that she would be back to par in a
few days, but he was thoroughly alarmed and refused to listen to further
delay.

"Your surroundings are bad, you need a change."

She read him to the soul, knew that this argument sprang not from love,
but from pity and self-accusation; therefore, forcing a light tone, she
answered: "I don't feel able to take command of a cook and second girl
just yet, Bennie dear; besides, you're all wrong about this being a bad
atmosphere for me. I'm horribly comfortable here, my own sister couldn't
be kinder than Julia is. No, no, wait a few months longer till you get
settled a little more securely in business; I may pick up a volt or two
more of electricity by that time." Then as she saw his face darken and a
tremor run over his flesh, she lost her self-control and broke forth
with sudden, bitter intensity: "Why don't you throw me over and marry
some nice girl with a healthy body and sane mind? Why cheat yourself and
me?"

He recoiled before her question, too amazed to do more than exclaim
against her going on.

She was not to be checked. "Let us be honest with ourselves. You know
perfectly well I'm never going to get better--I do, if you don't. I may
linger on in this way for years, but I will never be anything but a
querulous invalid. Now that's the bitter truth. You mustn't marry me--I
won't let you!" Then her mood changed. "And yet it's so hard to go on
alone--even for a little way."

Her eyes closed on her hot tears, her head drooped, and Ben, putting his
arm about her neck and pressing her quivering face against his breast,
reproached her very tenderly: "I won't let you say such things,
dearest--you must not! You're not yourself to-day."

"Oh yes, I am! My mind is very clear, too horribly clear. Ben dear, I
mean all I say--you shall not link yourself to