? If
the lowliness of my position deterred him from asking me to marry him, I
was wasting sympathy upon him, and taking needless precautions. The idea
roused me strangely, and I found myself taking sides against myself in
an imaginary debate as to the probabilities of his conduct. It made
every vein in my body tingle, to think that birth or fortune might be
able to affect his decision; and it seemed to me, as I sought my pillow
that night, that I almost hated him.

In the morning I decided that I had probably overestimated his feelings
toward me, and that although I had better go home on the following day,
there was no reason why I should treat Mr. Prime other than as usual. He
was not in love with me; or if he were, he was not man enough to
acknowledge it. I should refuse him if he did; but I hated to feel that
I had been expending so much friendship on a man whose soul could not
soar beyond birth and fortune. Had he not told me that money was the
greatest power on earth? So, too, he had said to my face that a lady
could not be made, but was born. I was irrational, and I was conscious
of being irrational; but I did not care. I would make him wince at
least, and feel for a time the tortures of a love he did not dare to
express. Ah! but such a love was not worthy of the name, and it was I
who was become the fitting subject for the finger of derision, because I
had put my faith in him.

These were the thoughts that harassed me before I met Mr. Prime on
Sunday, and we turned our steps with tacit unanimity toward the Park. I
walked in silence, chafing inwardly; and he too, I fancy, was nervous
and self-absorbed, though I paid little heed to his emotions, so complex
were my own. We had not proceeded very far before he turned to me and
said simply,--

"What is the matter? Have I offended you in any way?"

"Do you think then, Mr. Prime, that my thoughts must always be of you?"
I answered.

"Alas! no. But something has happened. You cannot deceive me."

I was silent a moment. "Yes, something has happened. I am going to leave
New York."

"Going to leave New York!" he stopped abruptly, and looked at me with
amazement.

"Yes," I said quietly. "My aunt has sent for me, and it is imperative
that I should go. She is in trouble and needs me. It is a long story,
and one with which I will not weary you. It is not necessary that you
should be burdened with my private affairs; you have enough troubles of
your own. Let us change