re, a shawl over her knees. It was a blustering day at
the end of February. The windows rattled, and the wind rushing down the
chimney blew the flame into little flags and pennants of colour.

Paul came and stood by the fire, warming his hands, his legs spread
out. Maggie looked at him with a long comprehensive glance that took
him in from head to foot. She seemed to know then that she was going to
marry him. A voice seemed to say to her: "Look at him well. This is the
man you're going to live with. You'd better realise him."

She did realise him; his white hair, his rosy cheeks, his boyish nose
and mouth and rounded chin, his broad chest, thick long legs and large
white hands--soft perhaps, but warm and comfortable and safe. Maggie
could think of little else as she looked at him but of how nice it
would be to lay her head back on that broad chest, feel his arms around
her, and forget--forget--forget!

That was what she needed--forgetfulness and work ... She did not love
him--no, not one little atom. She had never felt less excitement about
anybody, but she liked him, respected him, and trusted him. And he
wanted her, wanted her desperately, Katherine had said, that was the
chief thing of all.

"Maggie!" he said suddenly, turning round to her. "Would you ever think
of marrying me?"

She liked that directness and simplicity, characteristic of him.

She looked up at him.

"I don't think I'd be much of a success, Paul," she said.

He saw at once from that that she did not intend instantly to refuse
him. His rosy cheeks took on an added tinge of colour and he caught a
chair, drew it up to her long one and sat down, bending eagerly towards
her.

"Leave that to me," he said.

"I oughtn't to think of it," she answered, shaking her head. "And for
very good reasons. For one thing I'm not in love with you, for another
I'm not religious, and for a third I'm so careless that I'd never do
for your wife."

"Of course I knew about the first," he said eagerly. "I knew you didn't
love me, but that will come, Maggie. It MUST come ..."

Maggie shook her head. "I love some one else," she said, "and I always
will. But he's gone away and will never come back. I've made up my mind
to that. But if he did come back and wanted me I couldn't promise that
I wouldn't--" She broke off. "You can see that it wouldn't do."

"No, I can't see," he said, taking her hand. "I can see that you like
me, Maggie. I can see that we're splendid fr