e
beginning to the end."

"He told you about--about Valpre?" Her eyelids quivered, as if she wished
to raise them but dared not.

"Yes."

"Then you know--" Her hand fluttered in his.

"I know everything," he said.

Her white face quivered piteously. "And you--you are still angry?"

"No, I am not angry." He led her back to the sofa. "Sit down a minute,"
he said. "I don't think you are quite fit for this, and if you are going
back with me to Valpre, you will need to reserve your strength."

He sat down beside her, both her hands firmly clasped in his, as if
thereby he would impart to her the strength she lacked.

"You mean me to go, then?" murmured Chris.

"Don't you want to go?" he asked.

"If he really wants me--" she faltered. "And if you--you wish it, too."

"My dear," he said, "do my wishes make any real difference?"

She caught her breath sharply, and bent her head that he might not see
her face. "Yes," she whispered, under her breath.

"Very well," he said, "I wish it, too."

She was silent, but suddenly her tears began to fall upon the strong
hands that held hers. She would have given anything to have repressed
them at that moment. With her whole soul she shrank from showing him her
weakness, but it overpowered her. She bowed her head lower still, and
wept.

He sat quite motionless for seconds, so that even in the depth of her
distress she marvelled at his patience. But at last, very gently, he
moved, let her hands go, and rose.

He stood awhile turned from her, his face to the window, though the
sun-blind was all that could have met his view; finally, with grave
kindness, he spoke.

"I think I had better leave you to prepare for the journey. There is not
much time at your disposal, and you will probably need it all. It is
settled that Noel is to go with us?"

"You won't mind?" she whispered.

"I think it a very good plan," he answered.

He turned round and came back to her. She had commanded herself to a
certain extent, but still she could not raise her face. She waited
tensely as he approached, possessed by a sudden, almost delirious longing
to feel the touch of his lips.

Her desire surged into leaping hope as he stopped beside her. Would
he--could he? But he did not stoop. He only laid his hand for a moment
upon her head.

"Chris," he said, "try to think of me as a friend--and don't be afraid."

She thrilled at the low-spoken words. In another moment she would have
conquered all