trength and I could win anything? I'll feel
like that again, Beatrice, if you'll come to me."

She shook her head slowly. She looked away from him with a sigh. She
had the air of one who has sought for something which she has failed to
find.

"You mustn't think of that again, Leonard," she told him. "It would be
quite impossible. This is the only way I can save my father. We have a
tour that will take us the best part of another year."

"But you are sacrificing yourself!" he declared. "I will keep your
father."

"It isn't that only," she replied. "For one thing, I couldn't let you;
and for another, it isn't only the money, it's the work. As long as
he's made to think that the public expect him every night, he keeps off
drinking too much. There is nothing else in the whole world which would
keep him steady. Don't look as though you didn't understand, Leonard. He
is my father, you know, and there isn't anything more terrible than to
see any one who has a claim on us give way to anything like that. You
mayn't quite approve, but please believe that I am doing what I feel to
be right."

The little fire had gone out. Beatrice glanced at the clock and put on
her jacket again.

"I am sorry, Leonard," she said, "but I think I must go and fetch father
now. You can walk with me there, if you will. It has been very good
to see you again. For the rest I don't know what to say to you. Do you
think that it is quite what you were meant for--to build boats?"

"I don't seem to have any other ambition," he answered, wearily. "When
I read in the paper this morning that you and your father were here,
things seemed suddenly different. I came at once. I didn't know what I
wanted until I saw you, but I know now, and it isn't any good."

"No good at all," she declared cheerfully. "It won't be very long,
Leonard, before something else comes along to stir you. I don't think
you were meant to build boats all your life."

He rose and took up his hat. She was waiting for him at the door. Again
they passed down the narrow street.

"Tell, me, Beatrice," he begged, "is it because you don't like me well
enough that you won't listen to what I ask?"

For a moment she half closed her eyes as though in pain. Then she
laughed, not perhaps very naturally. They were standing now by the door
of the public house.

"Leonard," she said, "you are very young in years but you are a baby
in experience. Mind, there are other reasons why I could not--woul