pposition, though he knew it was a perfectly natural
one.

Waymark was silent.

"Don't you think," the other pursued, "it's about time something was
said to her?"

"I can't see that it matters, and--"

"But I _can_ see. As long as that isn't known you're here, to speak
plainly, on false pretences."

"Then I won't come here at all!"

"Very good," exclaimed the old man irritably, "so long as you explain
to her first."

Waymark turned away, and stood gazing gloomily at the floor. Abraham
regarded him, and a change came over his hard face.

"Now, look here," he said, "there's something in all this I can't make
out. Is this engagement a serious one?"

"Serious?" returned the other, with a look of misery. "How can it be
otherwise?"

"Very well; in that case you're bound to let Ida know about it, and at
once. Damn it all, don't you know your own mind?"

Waymark collected himself, and spoke gravely.

"I, of course, understand why you press so for this explanation. You
take it for granted that Ida regards me as something more than a
friend. If so, my manner since she has been here must have clearly
shown her that, on my side, I have not the least thought of offering
more than friendship. You yourself will grant so much, I believe. For
all that, I don't deny that our relations have always been unusual; and
it would cost me very much to tell her of my engagement. I ask you to
relieve me of the painful task, on the understanding that I never come
here again. I can't make you understand my position. You say my
behaviour has not been straightforward. In the ordinary sense of the
word it has not;--there let it rest. Tell Ida what you will of me, and
let me disappear from her world."

"The plain English of all which," cried Abraham angrily, "is, that, as
far as you are concerned, you would be quite willing to let the girl
live on false hopes, just to have the pleasure of her society as long
as you care for it."

"Not so, not so at all! I value Ida's friendship as I value that of no
other woman, and I am persuaded that, if I were free with her, I could
reconcile her entirely to our connection remaining one of friendship,
and nothing more."

Waymark, in his desperate straits, all but persuaded himself that he
told the truth. Mr. Woodstock gazed at him in doubt. He would give him
to the end of July to make up his mind; by that time Waymark must
either present himself as a free man, or allow Ida to be informed of
his