rned.

The hansom drove off. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and
imprisoned in Courtlaw's burning fingers. She glanced into his face.
It was enough.

"I have stood it for a month, Anna," he exclaimed. "You will not even
answer my letters. I could not keep away any longer."

"Do you think that it was wise of you, or kind to come?" she asked
quietly.

"Wise! Kind! What mockery words are! I came because I had to. I cannot
live without you, Anna. Come back--you must come back. We can be
married to-morrow in Paris. There! You are trying to take your hand
away."

"You disappoint me," she said wearily. "You are talking like a boy.
What is the use of it? I do not wish to marry you. I do not wish to
return to Paris. You are doing your best to break our friendship."

"It is you," he cried, "you, who are talking folly, when you speak of
friendship between you and me. It is not the woman who speaks there.
It is the vapouring school girl. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and
I believe that you love me. You are necessary to me. I shall give you
my life, every moment and thought of my life. You must come back. See
what you have made of me. I cannot work, I cannot teach. You have
grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out."

Anna was silent. She was trembling a little. The man's passion was
infectious. She had to school herself to speak the words which she
knew would cut him like a knife.

"You are mistaken, David. I have counted you, and always hoped to
count you, the best of my friends. But I do not love you. I do not
love any one."

"I don't believe it," he answered hoarsely. "We have come too close
together for me to believe it. You care for me a little, I know. I
will teach you how to make that little sufficient."

"You came to tell me this?"

"I came for you," he declared fiercely.

The hansom sped through the crowded streets. Anna suddenly leaned
forward and looked around her.

"We are not going the right way," she exclaimed.

"You are coming my way," Courtlaw answered. "Anna," he pleaded, "be
merciful. You care for me just a little, I know. You are alone in the
world, you have no one save yourself to consider. Come back with me
to-night. Your old rooms are there, if you choose. I kept them on
myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of
it all nearly sent me mad."

Anna lifted her hand and pushed open the trap door.

"Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman," she ordered.

Th