thing--down. He is, you see, a somewhat exacting man, and that gave me
the hope that you would be as merciful."

"Still, you have not answered me."

Seaforth flushed a little. "I know what you mean--but would even what
I have told you warrant you thinking that of me?"

"I must know," said the girl.

Seaforth was silent a moment. "There is a distinction--but it is
difficult to draw," he said. "Well, I could not bear to think of you
struggling on down here alone with everything against you. There were
times when it almost maddened me, and at last, though I knew it might
cost me all I hoped for, I had to speak."

The girl's face softened. "And there was nothing else. You did not
think that--because of anything which had happened--I should be more
apt to listen?"

Seaforth was usually undemonstrative in bearing and speech, but he
stood up stiffly, and his voice was a trifle strained. "That is what I
have been trying to make clear, and I can only give you my word that I
did not," he said. "If I had had more courage I would have told you
that story long ago."

Nellie Townshead's eyes were very gentle now. "I felt I must make
quite sure, because had it been otherwise I should never have forgiven
you."

"And," said Seaforth slowly, "you can forgive the rest. I can make no
protestations, but if I have gone straight in this country it was you
who helped me, and I should never have gone down into the mire if I had
known you in the other one. And now I have nothing, not even moderate
prosperity to offer you."

"You think that would have counted?" said the girl.

"No," said Seaforth quietly, "not with you. It is because I have so
little to offer I venture to ask so much. All the giving must be done
by you."

Seaforth had, though not an eloquent man, pleaded his cause
efficaciously, for although his words might have been better chosen,
the inference behind them was plain; and while parts of his story had
brought the colour to the cheeks of his companion, his blameless life
in Canada was a very acceptable offering since he owed it to her. It
is pleasant to feel oneself a refining influence, but it was not
gratified vanity which stirred the girl. She had a wide charity, and
was one of those whose mission is to give without looking for a return.
She rose up slowly, and stood before him with eyes that had grown a
trifle hazy.

"All that counts the most is yours still," she said. "And as to the
rest--I t