she said, sober and
earnest.

"I don't care what becomes of me," he said boyishly.

"But _I_ do," she said. "I want to see you the man you can be."

"Then--marry me," he cried.

Her eyes looked gentle friendship; her passionate lips curled in scorn.
"I might marry the sort of man you could be," she said, "but I never
could marry a man so weak that, without me to bolster him up, he'd
become a stool-pigeon."

And she turned and walked away.

V.

A few days later, after she had taken her daily two hours' walk, Selma
went into the secluded part of Washington Park and spent the rest of
the morning writing. Her walk was her habitual time for thinking out
her plans for the day. And when it was writing that she had to do, and
the weather was fine, that particular hillside with its splendid shade
so restful for the eyes and so stimulating to the mind became her
work-shop. She thought that she was helped as much by the colors of
grass and foliage as by the softened light and the tranquil view out
over hills and valleys.

When she had finished her article she consulted the little nickel watch
she carried in her bag and discovered that it was only one o'clock.
She had counted on getting through at three or half past. Two hours
gained. How could she best use them. The part of the Park where she
was sitting was separated from the Hastings grounds only by the winding
highroad making its last reach for the top of the hill. She decided
that she would go to see Jane Hastings--would try to make tactful
progress in her project of helping Jane and David Hull by marrying them
to each other. Once she had hit upon this project her interest in both
of them had equally increased. Yes, these gained two hours was an
opportunity not to be neglected.

She put her papers into her shopping bag and went straight up the steep
hill. She arrived at the top, at the edge of the lawn before Jane's
house, with somewhat heightened color and brightened eyes, but with no
quickening of the breath. Her slim, solid little body had all the
qualities of endurance of those wiry ponies that come from the regions
her face and walk and the careless grace of her hair so delightfully
suggested. As she advanced toward the house she saw a gay company
assembled on the wide veranda. Jane was giving a farewell luncheon for
her visitors, had asked almost a dozen of the most presentable girls in
the town. It was a very fashionable affair, and everyo