onor to think it was so strong and wonderful that death would be a
delirious delight to you in preference to spoiling my career by
marrying me--well--Elizabeth disillusioned him!"

Nan's eyebrows lifted perceptibly.

"She informed my father in my presence," Donald continued, "that you
had had a change of heart; that you were now resolved to accept me
should I again ask you to marry me. It appears you had told Andrew
Daney this--in cold blood as it were. So Dad went to the telephone and
verified this report by Daney; then we had a grand show-down and I was
definitely given my choice of habitation--The Dreamerie or the Sawdust
Pile. Father, Mother, Elizabeth and Jane; jointly and severally
assured me that they would never receive you, so Nan, dear, it appears
that I will have to pay rather a heavy price for the privilege of
marrying you--"

"I have never told you I would marry you," she cried sharply.

"Yes, you did. That day in the hospital."

"That was a very necessary fib and you should not hold it against me.
It was a promise absolutely not made in good faith."

"But did you tell Daney that you would accept me if I should ask you
again to marry me?"

She was visibly agitated but answered him truthfully. "Yes, I did."

"You said it in anger?"

"Yes." Very softly.

"Daney had come to you with an offer of monetary reward for your
invaluable services to the McKaye family, had he not? And since what
you did was not done for profit, you were properly infuriated and
couldn't resist giving Daney the scare of his life? That was the way
of it, was it not?"

Nan nodded and some tears that trembled on her long lashes were
flicked off by the vigor of the nod; some of them fell on the big
gaunt hands that held hers.

"I suppose you haven't sufficient money with which to return to New
York?" he continued.

Again she nodded an affirmative.

"Just what are your plans, dear?"

"I suppose I'll have to go somewhere and try to procure a position as
a cook lady."

"An admirable decision," he declared enthusiastically. "I'll give you
a job cooking for me, provided you'll agree to marry me and permit me
to live in your house. I'm a man without a home and you've just _got_
to take me in, Nan. I have no other place to lay my weary head."

She looked at him and through the blur of her tears she saw him
smiling down at her, calmly, benignantly and with that little touch of
whimsicality that was always in evidence and which