usiness."

"You would?"

He amended his offer somewhat.

"Marry me, honey," he begged. "Marry me now. Do you think I'll let
anything in God's world come between us? Marry me, and I'll do more than
leave them." He was whispering to her, stroking her hair. "I'll cut the
whole outfit. And on the day I go into your house as your husband I'll
tell your people some things they want to know. That's a promise."

"What will they do to you?"

"Your people?"

"The others."

He drew himself to his full height, and laughed.

"They'll try to do plenty, old girl," he said, "but I'm not afraid of
them, and they know it. Marry me, Lily," he urged. "Marry me now. And
we'll beat them out, you and I."

He gave her a sense of power, over him and over evil. She felt suddenly
an enormous responsibility, that of a human soul waiting to be uplifted
and led aright.

"You can save me, honey," he whispered, and kneeling suddenly, he kissed
the toe of her small shoe.

He was strong. But he was weak too. He needed her. "I'll do it, Louis,"
she said. "You--you will be good to me, won't you?"

"I'm crazy about you."

The mood of exaltation upheld her through the night, and into the next
day. Elinor eyed her curiously, and with some anxiety. It was a long
time since she had been a girl, going about star-eyed with power over a
man, but she remembered that lost time well.

At noon Louis came in for a hasty luncheon, and before he left he
drew Lily into the little study and slipped a solitaire diamond on her
engagement finger. To Lily the moment was almost a holy one, but he
seemed more interested in the quality of the stone and its appearance on
her hand than in its symbolism.

"Got you cinched now, honey. Do you like it?"

"It makes me feel that I don't belong to myself any longer."

"Well, you've passed into good hands," he said, and laughed his great,
vibrant laugh. "Costing me money already, you mite!"

A little of her exaltation died then. But perhaps men were like that,
shyly covering the things they felt deepest.

She was rather surprised when he suggested keeping the engagement a
secret.

"Except the Doyles, of course," he said. "I am not taking any chances on
losing you, child."

"Not mother?"

"Not unless you want to be kidnaped and taken home. It's only a matter
of a day or two, anyhow."

"I want more time than that. A month, anyhow."

And he found her curiously obstinate and determined. She did not
quite know