oice
comes to me from an immense distance when you speak in that way. You
want me--but never with a thought of what I might want. Is that love? I
like you very deeply as a friend, but we are of different races. There
is a gulf."

"A gulf? You are English."

"By birth, yes. In mind, no. And there are things that go deeper, that
you could not understand. So I refuse quite definitely, and our ways
part here, for in a few days I go. I shall not see you again, but I wish
to say good-bye."

The bitterest chagrin was working in my soul. I felt as if all were
deserting me-a sickening feeling of loneliness. I did not know the man
who was in me, and was a stranger to myself.

"I entreat you to tell me why, and where."

"Since you have made me this offer, I will tell you why. Lady Meryon
objected to my friendship with you, and objected in a way which-"

She stopped, flushing palely. I caught her hand.

"That settles it!-that she should have dared! I'll go up this minute and
tell her we are engaged. Vanna-Vanna!"

For she disengaged her hand, quietly but firmly.

"On no account. How can I make it more plain to you? I should have gone
soon in any case. My place is in the native city--that is the life I
want. I have work there, I knew it before I came out. My sympathies are
all with them. They know what life is--why even the beggars, poorer than
poor, are perfectly happy, basking in the great generous sun. Oh, the
splendour and riot of life and colour! That's my life--I sicken of
this."

"But I'll give it to you. Marry me, and we will travel till you're tired
of it."

"Yes, and look on as at a play--sitting in the stalls, and applauding
when we are pleased. No, I'm going to work there." "For God's sake, how?
Let me come too."

"You can't. You're not in it. I am going to attach myself to the medical
mission at Lahore and learn nursing, and then I shall go to my own
people."

"Missionaries? You've nothing in common with them?"

"Nothing. But they teach what I want. Mr. Clifden, I shall not come this
way again. If I remember--I'll write to you, and tell you what the real
world is like."

She smiled, the absorbed little smile I knew and feared. I saw pleading
was useless then. I would wait, and never lose sight of her and of hope.

"Vanna, before you go, give me your gift of sight. Interpret for me.
Stay with me a little and make me see."

"What do you mean exactly?" she asked in her gentlest voice, half
turning t