law. So I thought that, as she is practically alone
in the world, it would be the only right and honorable thing to ... to
speak to you, first."

"To speak to me ... _first_?" echoed Donald, a trifle unsteadily, as he
struck another match and watched its flame, with unseeing eyes, until
it, too, burned his fingers.

"Yes. Great Scott, can't you guess what I'm driving at? The plain fact
is ... is that I love her, Don. I ... I want to marry her."

The words smote the older man's senses like a bolt from a clear sky, and
they reeled, although he managed, somehow, to keep outwardly calm.

"You ... you haven't told her ... yet ... that you love her?" he managed
to say, after a moment.

"No. At least, not directly; but I guess that she knows it. I wanted,
first, to be sure that you would approve ... perhaps even sponsor my
suit, for, although I mean, of course, to stand or fall on the strength
of my own case, I know that she worships you, as a brother, and might be
influenced by your attitude. You understand, don't you, old man?"

Donald nodded, then asked slowly, "Does ... does Smiles love you, Phil?"

"Yes, I think that I can honestly say that I believe she does. Of course
no word of love has ever passed between us, but ... well, you know how
it is."

With a mighty effort of his will, Donald conquered the trembling that
had seized upon his body, and--on his third attempt--calmly lit the
cigar. But his thoughts were running like a tumultuous millrace. "Blind,
egotistical, self-confident fool," they shouted. "That something like
this should have happened is the most natural thing in the world, and it
has been farthest from your mind."

He remained silent so long that Philip was forced to laugh, a bit
uneasily.

"I know well enough that I'm not half worthy of her--no man could
be--but I hope that I'm not altogether ineligible, and I'm sure that I
love her more than any one else could." At his words Donald winced.
"I'll do my best to make her life a happy one, if she'll have me--you
know that, old fellow. Well," he laughed again, "say something, can't
you? I should almost get the idea that you were jealous, if I didn't
also know that that is absurd. Your engagement to Marion Treville ... I
suppose that you don't want to talk about that, but you know how deeply
I feel for you."

Donald shook himself together, mentally, and made an effort to respond
with convincing heartiness, although he found that his words sounded