sordidly of what was sacred and
holy to me, of what I thought was holy to us both? You couldn't, if you
had been the man I imagined you were."

"Don't blame a fellow for every loose word he utters when he's all upset,
Janet," he pleaded. "Put yourself in my place. Suppose you found you
hadn't anything at all--found it out suddenly, when all along you had
been thinking you'd never have to bother about money? Suppose you--But
you must know how the world, how all our friends, look on that sort of
thing. And suppose you loved--just as I love you. Wouldn't you go to her
and hope she'd brace you up and make you feel that she really loved you
and--all that? Wouldn't you, Janet?"

She looked sadly at him. "You don't understand," she said, her rosebud
mouth drooping pathetically. "You can't realize how you shook--how you
_shattered_--my faith in you."

He caught her by the arms roughly. "Look here, Janet Whitney. Do you love
me or don't you? Do you intend to throw me over, now that I have lost my
money, or do you intend to be all you've pretended to be?"

The sadness in her sweet face deepened. "Let me go, Arthur," she said
quietly. "You don't understand. You never will."

"Yes or no?" he demanded, shaking her. Then suddenly changing to
tenderness, with all his longing for sympathy in his eyes and in his
voice, "Janet--dear--yes or no?"

She looked away. "Don't persist, Arthur," she said, "or you will make me
think it is only my money that makes you, that made you, pretend to--to
care for me."

He drew back sharply. "Janet!" he exclaimed.

"Of course, I don't think so," she continued, after a constrained
silence. "But I can't find any other reason for your talking and acting
as you have this morning."

He tried to see from her point of view. "Maybe it's true," he said, "that
other things than our love have had too much to do with it, with both of
us, in the past. But I love you for yourself alone, now, Janet. And, you
haven't a fortune of your own, but only expectations--and they're not
always realized, and in your case can't be for many a year. So we don't
start so unevenly. Give yourself to me, Janet. Show that you believe in
me, and I know I shall not disappoint you."

Very manly his manner was as he said this, and brave and convincing was
the show of his latent, undeveloped powers in his features and voice.
She hesitated, then lowered her head, and, in a sad, gentle voice,
said, "I don't trust you, Arthur. You've