d be
in any way avoided; but now he felt that he was driven up into a
corner;--now he was forced to speak to her of her own personality.
"You have no experience yet as to that. How can you say what age will
do?"

"Age does not go by years," said Mrs. Dobbs Broughton. "We all know
that. 'His hair was grey, but not with years.' Look here, Conway,"
and she moved back her tresses from off her temples to show him that
there were grey hairs behind. He did not see them; and had they been
very visible she might not perhaps have been so ready to exhibit
them. "No one can say that length of years has blanched them. I have
no secrets from you about my age. One should not be grey before one
has reached thirty."

"I did not see a changed hair."

"'Twas the fault of your eyes, then, for there are plenty of them.
And what is it has made them grey?"

"They say hot rooms will do it."

"Hot rooms! No, Conway, it does not come from heated atmosphere. It
comes from a cold heart, a chilled heart, a frozen heart, a heart
that is all ice." She was getting out of the cloud into the heat now,
and he could only hope that Miss Van Siever would come soon. "The
world is beginning with you, Conway, and you are as old as I am. It
is ending with me, and yet I am as young as you are. But I do not
know why I talk of all this. It is simply folly,--utter folly. I
had not meant to speak of myself; but I did wish to say a few words
to you of your own future. I suppose I may still speak to you as a
friend?"

"I hope you will always do that."

"Nay,--I will make no such promise. That I will always have a
friend's feeling for you, a friend's interest in your welfare, a
friend's triumph in your success,--that I will promise. But friendly
words, Conway, are sometimes misunderstood."

"Never by me," said he.

"No, not by you,--certainly not by you. I did not mean that. I did
not expect that you should misinterpret them." Then she laughed
hysterically,--a little low, gurgling, hysterical laugh; and after
that she wiped her eyes, and then she smiled, and then she put her
hand very gently upon his shoulder. "Thank God, Conway, we are quite
safe there,--are we not?"

He had made a blunder, and it was necessary that he should correct
it. His watch was lying in the trough of his easel, and he looked at
it and wondered why Miss Van Siever was not there. He had tripped,
and he must make a little struggle and recover his step. "As I said
before, it shall n