like to be of that disposition," she said.

"But I'm afraid you are, whether you like it or not." Scarborough was
half-serious, half in jest.

"Are you the same person you were a month ago?"

Pauline glanced away. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean in thought--in feeling."

"Yes--and no," she replied presently, when she had recovered from the
shock of his chance knock at the very door of her secret. "My coming
here has made a sort of revolution in me already. I believe I've a
more--more grown-up way of looking at things. And I've been getting
into the habit of thinking--and--and acting--for myself."

"That's a dangerous habit to form--in a hurry," said Scarborough. "One
oughtn't to try to swim a wide river just after he's had his first
lesson in swimming."

Pauline, for no apparent reason, flushed crimson and gave him a nervous
look--it almost seemed a look of fright.

"But," he went on, "we were talking of the change in you. If you've
changed so much in, thirty days, or, say, in sixty-seven days--you've
been here that long, I believe--think of your whole life. The broader
your mind and your life become, the less certain you'll be what sort of
person to-morrow will find you. It seems to me--I know that, for
myself, I'm determined to keep the future clear. I'll never tie myself
to the past."

"But there are some things one MUST anchor fast to." Pauline was
looking as if Scarborough were trying to turn her adrift in an open
boat on a lonely sea. "There are--friends. You wouldn't desert your
friends, would you?"

"I couldn't help it if they insisted on deserting me. I'd keep them if
their way was mine. If it wasn't--they'd give me up."

"But if you were--were--married?"

Scarborough became intensely self-conscious.

"Well--I don't know--that is----" He paused, went on: "I shouldn't
marry until I was sure--her way and mine were the same."

"The right sort of woman makes her husband's way hers," said she.

"Does she? I don't know much about women. But it has always seemed to
me that the kind of woman I'd admire would be one who had her own
ideals and ideas of life--and that--if--if she liked me, it would be
because we suited each other. You wouldn't want to be--like those
princesses that are brought up without any beliefs of any sort so that
they can accept the beliefs of the kingdom of the man they happen to
marry?"

Pauline laughed. "I couldn't, even if I wished," she said.

"I