ce jarred upon her. Her nerves
were all on edge. Fletcher Hill's hand was like a steel trap, cold and
firm and merciless. She longed to wrench herself free from it, yet felt
too paralysed to move.

And still he waited, not urging her, yet by his very silence making her
aware of a compulsion she could not hope to resist for long.

She turned to him at last in desperation. "What--have you to suggest?"
she asked.

"I?" he said. "I shall be ready at the end of the week--if that will suit
you."

She gazed at him blankly. "The end of the week! But of course not--of
course not! You are joking!"

"No, I am serious," Fletcher said. "Sit down a minute and let me
explain!"

Then, as she hesitated, he very gently put her down upon the seat under
the closed window, and stood before her, blocking her in.

"I have been wanting this opportunity of talking to you," he said,
"without Jack chipping in. He's a good fellow, and I know he is on my
side. But I have a fancy for scoring off my own bat. Listen, Dot! I am
not suggesting anything very preposterous. You have promised to marry me.
Haven't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, breathlessly. "Yes."

"Yes," he repeated. "And the longer you have to think about it, the more
scared you will get. My dear child, what is the point of spinning it out
in this fashion? You are going through agonies of mind--for nothing. If
I gave you back your freedom, you wouldn't be any happier, would you?"

She was silent.

"Would you?" he said again, and laid his hand upon her shoulder.

"I--don't think so," she said, faintly.

He took up her words again with magisterial emphasis. "You don't think
so. Well, there is every reason to suppose you wouldn't. You weren't
happy before, were you?"

She gripped her courage with immense effort. "I haven't been
happy--since," she said.

He accepted the statement without an instant's discomfiture. "I know you
haven't. I realized that the moment I saw you. You have been suffering
the tortures of the damned because you're in a positive hell of
indecision. Oh, I know all about it." His hand moved a little upon her
shoulder; it almost seemed to caress her. "I haven't studied human nature
all these years for nothing. I know you're in a perfect fever of doubt,
and it'll go on till you're married. What's the good of it? Why torture
yourself like this when the way to happiness lies straight before you?
Are you hoping against hope that something may yet turn up to pr