ose who must look to them
for the comforts of this world," he declared.

"We must make allowances."

"I'll not stay in a position where a man who hires me thinks he can
talk to me as if I were a foremast hand. Alma, you would despise me if I
allowed myself to be kicked around like a dog."

"I would love you all the more for being willing to sacrifice something
for my sake. I want you here--here with all your love--here with me as
long as these summer days last." She patted his cheek. "Why don't you
tell me that you want to stay with me, Boyd? That you will die if we
cannot be together? We can see each other here. I can bring Nan Burgess
on the bridge with me. Father will not mind then. Let each day take care
of itself!"

"I want to be what you want me to be--to do what you want me to do. But
I wish you would tell me to go out into the world and make something of
myself. Alma, tell me to go! And wait for me!"

She laid her face against his shoulder and reached for his fingers,
endeavoring to pull one of his arms about her. But both of his hands
were clutching the rail of the bridge. He resisted.

"Are you going to be like all the rest? Just money and trouble and
worry?" She stretched up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his fog-wet
cheek. "Are you asleep, my big boy? Yesterday you were awake."

"I think I am really awake to-day, and that I was dreaming yesterday.
Alma, I cannot sneak behind your father's back to make love to you. I
can't do it. I'm going to give up this position. I can't endure it."

"I say 'No!' I need you."

"But--"

"I'll not give you up."

There was something dramatic in her declaration; her demeanor expressed
the placid calm of absolute proprietorship. She worked his unwilling
fingers free from the rail.

"I love you because you can forget yourself. Now don't be like all the
others."

He realized that a queer little sting of impatience was pricking him.
The girl did not seem to understand what his manhood was prompting.

"You mustn't be selfish, Boyd!"

She put into words the vague thought which had been troubling him in
regard to her attitude; and now that he understood what his thought had
been he was incensed by what seemed his own disloyalty. And yet, the
girl was asking him to make over his nature!

"I'm afraid it's all wrong. These things never seem to come out right,"
he mourned.

"You are trying to turn the world upside down all at once--and all
alone. Don't think so