ixedly.

"You know that I have? Perhaps you know who I am?"

"I do," she answered. "You are Guy Mildmay, Duke of Mowbray."

He was taken aback.

"How did you find that out?" he asked.

"On the steamer," she answered, "the last few days. People got to know,
I am not sure how, and in any case it does not matter."

A light began to break in upon him.

"I believe," he said, "that it is because you know you will not marry
me."

"Oh! it isn't only that," she answered. "It is utterly, absolutely
impossible. My people live on a little farm in America, and have barely
enough money to live on. We are terribly poor."

He frowned for a moment thoughtfully. He was looking at her expensive
clothes. He did not understand.

"And besides," she continued, "there is another reason why I should
never think of it. Now, please, won't you believe me and go away? It is
not kind of you to make it so difficult for me."

"Very well, Virginia," he said quietly, "for the present I will ask you
no more. But can you tell me any reason why I should not be
your friend?"

"None at all," she answered. "You can be what you like, if you will only
go away and leave me alone."

"That," he answered, "is not my idea of friendship. If we are friends, I
have the right to help you in your troubles, whatever they may be."

"That," she declared, "is impossible."

Then he began to realize that this child, with her soft great eyes, her
delightful mouth, her girlish face, which ever since he had first seen
it had seemed to him the prototype of all that was gentle and lovable,
possessed a strength of character incredible in one of her years and
appearance. He realized that he was only distressing her by his
presence. The timidity of her manner was no sign of weakness, and there
was finality even in that earnest look which she had fixed upon him.

"You decline me as a husband then, Virginia," he said, "and you decline
me as a friend. You want to have nothing more to do with me. Very well,
I will go away."

She drew a sharp breath between her teeth, and if he noticed it he made
no sign. He drew a paper from his pocket and calmly tore it into pieces.

"That," he said, "was the paper which was to have made us happy.
Good-bye!"

"Good-bye!" she gasped, tearfully.

He laughed as he took her into his arms. She did not make the least
resistance.

"You little idiot!" he said. "Do you know that I very nearly went?"

Her head was buried upon his shoul