ately.

"Perhaps--strictly. But I did mean somehow to crush him--to make it
precious hot for him--just because he'd got in my way. My will was like
a steel spring in a machine--that had been let go. Suppose I felt like
that again, towards--"

"Towards me?" Connie opened her eyes very wide, puckering her pretty
brow.

"Towards some one--or something--you care for. We are certain to
disagree about heaps of things."

"Of course we are. Quite certain!"

"I tell you again"--said Falloden, speaking with a strong simplicity and
sincerity that was all the time undoing the impression he honestly
desired to make--"It's a big risk for you--a temperament like mine--and
you ought to think it over seriously. And then"--he paused abruptly in
front of her, his hands in his pockets--"why should you--you're so
young!--start life with any burden on you? Why should you? It's
preposterous! I must look after Otto all his life."

"So must I!" said Connie quickly. "That's the same for both of us."

"And then--you may forget it--but I can't. I repeat--I'm a pauper. I've
lost Flood. I've lost everything that I could once have given you. I've
got about four thousand pounds left--just enough to start me at the
bar--when I've paid for the Orpheus. And I can't take a farthing from my
mother or the other children. I should be just living upon you. How do I
know that I shall get on at the bar?"

Connie smiled; but her lips trembled.

"Do think it over," he implored; and he walked away from her again, as
though to leave her free.

There was a silence. He turned anxiously to look at her.

"I seem"--said Connie, in a low voice that shook--"to have kissed
somebody--for nothing."

That was the last stroke. He came back to her, and knelt beside her,
murmuring inarticulate things. With a sigh of relief, Connie subsided
upon his shoulder, conscious through all her emotion of the dear
strangeness of the man's coat against her cheek. But presently, she drew
herself away, and looked him in the eyes, while her own swam.

"I love you"--she said deliberately--"because--well, first because I
love you!--that's the only good reason, isn't it; and then, because
you're so sorry. And I'm sorry too. We've both got to make up--we're
going to make up all we can." Her sweet face darkened. "Oh, Douglas,
it'll take the two of us--and even then we can't do it! But we'll help
each other."

And stooping she kissed him gently, lingeringly, on the brow. It was a