is awkward, self-conscious fear of
touching her suddenly vanished, and the next instant she was in his arms
and he had kissed her.

"Scott!" she faltered, pushing him from her, too limp and dazed to use
the strength she possessed.

Surprised at what he had done, amazed that he was not afraid of her, he
held her tightly, thrilled dumb at the exquisite trembling contact.

"Oh, what are you doing," she stammered, in dire consternation; "what
have you done? We--you cannot--you must let me go, Scott----"

"You're only a girl, after all--you darling!" he said, inspecting her in
an ecstacy of curiosity. "I wonder why I've been afraid of you for so
long?--just because I love you!"

"You don't--you can't care for me that way----"

"I care for you in every kind of a way that anybody can care about
anybody." She turned her shoulder, desperately striving to release
herself, but she had not realised how tall and strong he was. "How small
you are," he repeated wonderingly; "just a soft, slender girl, Kathleen.
I can't see how I ever came to let you make me study when I didn't want
to."

"Scott, dear," she pleaded breathlessly, "you must let me go. This--this
is utterly impossible----"

"What is?"

"That you and I can--could care--this way----"

"Don't you?"

"I--no!"

"Is that the truth, Kathleen?"

She looked up; the divine distress in her violet eyes sobered him, awed
him for a moment.

"Kathleen," he said, "there are only a few years' difference between our
ages. I feel older than you; you look younger than I--and you are all in
the world I care for--or ever have cared for. Last spring--that night----"

"Hush, Scott," she begged, blushing scarlet.

"I know you remember. That is when I began to love you. You must have
known it."

She said nothing; the strain of her resisting arms against his breast
had relaxed imperceptibly.

"What can a fellow say?" he went on a little wildly, checked at moments
by the dryness of his throat and the rapid heartbeats that almost took
his breath away when he looked at her. "I love you so dearly, Kathleen;
there's no use in trying to live without loving you, for I couldn't do
it!... I'm not really young; it makes me furious to think you consider
me in that light. I'm a man, strong enough and old enough to love
you--and make you love me! I _will_ make you!" His arms tightened.

She uttered a little cry, which was half a sob; his boyish roughness
sent a glow rushing through her