too, or it wouldn't be fair. I won't think of it unless you'll do the
same for both. If I hadn't a penny left in the world, you know the
Carvers would take me in in a minute. Then if you do it, don't you see,"
she brought in slyly, "when I've spent my money, there'll always be
Hattie's for me to fall back on. Don't let her know you're doing it,
Tom, but fix it."

"All right. Two comfortable little annuities, enough to be independent
on, and be taken care of if you're sick."

"That's it, Tom. Then everybody's mind will be set at rest. And this I
promise: I'll try to be a good girl."

That subject being dropped, there was silence for a minute or two, while
Tom thoughtfully smoked.

Aurora's face was a living rose with the excitement of their discussion.
She put her hands to her cheeks to feel how they burned, then turned to
Tom to laugh with him over it. The pink of her face enhanced the
blueness of her eyes. It was not unusual for persons sitting near
Aurora, women as well as men, to feel a sudden desire to squeeze her in
their arms and tell her how sweet she was. Tom found himself saying a
thing he had taken a solemn engagement with himself not to say.

"I had hoped"--his utterance was slow and heavy--"to find a different
solution to the difficulty."

Her face questioned him, and at once looked troubled.

"I was going to try to take over all your difficulties and bundle them
up with my own; but," he continued, after a moment, with force, "I'm not
going to do it."

"That's right, Tom," she came out eagerly, without pretending not to
understand. "If I know what you mean--don't do it! Oh, I'm so grateful,
I can't tell you, that you've made up your mind that way. Because, dear
Tom, whatever you wanted me to do, seems to me I'd have to do it. I
don't see how I could say no to anything you asked me. It would break my
heart, I guess, if I had to hold out against a real wish of yours. I
couldn't do it. All the same, I know we wouldn't make just the happiest
kind of couple--'cause why, we're too like brother and sister, Tom. It
would be unnatural. I feel toward you, Tom, just like an own, own
sister--not those mean old things, Idell and Cora, who are your
sisters--but I feel toward you as I would to my own brother Charlie.
There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. But if I had to marry you,
there'd be something about it--well, I don't know. I can't explain.
Haven't you seen how there are things that are perfect for one us