d not ask me as yet. Think of my father's
position. Let this one sad year pass by."

"Two--three, if there are to be two or three sad years! I will wait
for you till you are as grey as old Peter, and I have not a note left
in my throat. I will stick to you like beeswax. But I will not have
you here hanging about me. Do you think that it would not be pleasant
for me to have a lover to congratulate me every day on my little
triumphs? Do you think that I should not be proud to be seen leaning
always on your arm, with the consciousness that Mr. Moss would be
annihilated at his very first word? But when a year had passed by,
where should I be? No, Frank, it will not do. If you were at Morony
Castle things would go on very well. As you choose to assume to
yourself the right of interference, we must part."

"When you tell me of such a proposition as that made to you by the
woman, am I to say nothing?"

"Not a word;--unless it be by letter from Morony Castle, and then
only to me. I will not have you here meddling with my affairs. I
told you, though I didn't tell my father, because I would tell you
everything."

"And I am to leave you,--without another word?"

"Yes, without another word. And remember that from this moment I am
free to marry any man that may come the way."

"Rachel!"

"I am free to marry any man that may come the way. I don't say I
shall do so. It may take me some little time to forget you. But I am
free. When that has been understood between us I am sure you will
interfere no longer; you will not be so unkind as to force upon
me the necessity of telling the truth to all the people about the
theatre. Let us understand each other."

"I understand," said he, with the air of a much injured man.

"I quite know your position. Trusting to your own prospects, you
cannot marry me at present, and you do not choose to accept such
income as I can give you. I respect and even approve your motives.
I am living a life before the public as a singer, in which it is
necessary that I should encounter certain dangers. I can do so
without fear, if I be left alone. You won't leave me alone. You won't
marry me, and yet you won't leave me to my own devices;--therefore,
we had better part." He took her by the hand sorrowfully, as though
preparing to embrace her. "No, Mr. Jones," she said, "that is all
done. I kissed you when my father was here, because I was then
engaged to be your wife. That is over now, and I can only say