r eyes. "I am not going to be bought
and sold to forward these nasty scientific schemes. My father can say
what he likes and do what he likes, but I marry you--to-morrow if you
like."

"That's just it," said Archie, flushing, "we can't marry."

"Why?" she asked, much astonished.

Hope looked at the ground and drew patterns with his cane-point in the
sand. They were seated in the hot sunshine--for the Indian summer still
continued--under a moldering brick wall, which ran around the most
delightful of kitchen gardens. This was situated at the back of the
Pyramids, and contained a multiplicity of pot herbs and fruit trees and
vegetables. It resembled the Fairy Garden in Madame D'Alnoy's story
of The White Cat, and in the autumn yielded a plentiful crop of
fine-flavored fruit. But now the trees were bare and the garden looked
somewhat forlorn for lack of greenery. But in spite of the lateness of
the season, Lucy often brought a book to read under the glowing wall,
and there ripened like a peach in the warm sunshine. On this occasion
she brought Archie into the old-world garden, as he had hinted at
confidences. And the time had come to speak plainly, as Hope began to
think that he had not treated Lucy quite fairly in hiding from her his
momentarily embarrassed position.

"Why can't we marry at once?" asked Lucy, seeing that her lover held his
peace and looked confused.

Hope did not reply directly. "I had better release you from your
engagement," he said haltingly.

"Oh!" Lucy's nostrils dilated and she threw back her head scornfully.
"And the other woman's name?"

"There is no other woman. I love you and you only. But--money."

"What about money? You have your income!"

"Oh yes--that is sure, small as it is. But I have incurred debts on
behalf of an uncle and his family. These have embarrassed me for the
moment, and so I cannot see my way to marrying you for at least six
months, Lucy." He caught her hand. "I feel ashamed of myself that I
did not tell you of this before. But I feared to lose you. Yet, on
reflection, I see that it is dishonorable to keep you in the dark, and
if you think that I have behaved badly--"

"Well, I do in a way," she interrupted quickly, "as your silence was
quite unnecessary. Don't treat me as a doll, my dear. I wish to share
your troubles as well as your joys. Come, tell me all about it."

"You are not angry?"

"Yes, I am--at your thinking I loved you so little as to be biased
agai