rather die than ask your forgiveness for
anything, and you'd rather let me than give it."

"Well, then, I ask your forgiveness, Alice, and I'm sure you won't let
me die without it."

They regarded each other a moment. Then the tenderness gushed up in
their hearts, a passionate tide, and swept them into each other's arms.

"O Dan," she cried, "how sweet you are! how good! how lovely! Oh, how
wonderful it is! I wanted to hate you, but I couldn't. I couldn't do
anything but love you. Yes, now I understand what love is, and how it
can do everything, and last for ever."

XLI.

Mavering came to lunch the next day, and had a word with Mrs. Pasmer
before Alice came in. Mr. Pasmer usually lunched at the club.

"We don't see much of Mrs. Saintsbury nowadays," he suggested.

"No; it's a great way to Cambridge," said Mrs. Pasmer, stifling, in a
little sigh of apparent regret for the separation, the curiosity she
felt as to Dan's motive in mentioning Mrs. Saintsbury. She was very
patient with him when he went on.

"Yes, it is a great way. And a strange thing about it is that when
you're living here it's a good deal further from Boston to Cambridge
than it is from Cambridge to Boston."

"Yes," said Mrs. Pasmer; "every one notices that."

Dan sat absently silent for a time before he said, "Yes, I guess I must
go out and see Mrs. Saintsbury."

"Yes, you ought. She's very fond of you. You and Alice ought both to
go."

"Does Mrs. Saintsbury like me?" asked Dan. "Well, she's awfully nice.
Don't you think she's awfully fond of formulating people?"

"Oh, everybody in Cambridge does that. They don't gossip; they merely
accumulate materials for the formulation of character."

"And they get there just the same!" cried Dan. "Mrs. Saintsbury used to
think she had got me down pretty fine," he suggested.

"Yes!" said Mrs. Pasmer, with an indifference which they both knew she
did not feel.

"Yes. She used to accuse me of preferring to tack, even in a fair wind."

He looked inquiringly at Mrs. Pasmer; and she said, "How ridiculous!"

"Yes, it was. Well, I suppose I am rather circuitous about some things."

"Oh, not at all!"

"And I suppose I'm rather a trial to Alice in that way."

He looked at Mrs. Pasmer again, and she said: "I don't believe you are,
in the least. You can't tell what is trying to a girl."

"No," said Dan pensively, "I can't." Mrs. Pasmer tried to render the
interest in her face less vivid. "I can't