"Indeed I do."

"I know," he said, "you never say anything you do not mean. But _how_
do you mean it, Lois? Not to deny me? You do not mean _that?_"

"Yes," she said. And it was like putting a knife through her own heart
when she said it. O, if she were at home! O, if she had never come on
this drive! O, if she had never left Esterbrooke and those
sick-beds!--But here she was, and must stand the question; and Mr.
Dillwyn had not done.

"What reason do you give me?"--and his voice grated now with pain.

"I gave none," said Lois faintly. "Don't let us talk about it! It is no
use. Don't ask me anything more!"

"One question I must. I must know it. Do you dislike me, Lois?"

"Dislike? O no! how should I dislike you?" she answered. There was a
little, very slight, vibration in her voice as she spoke, and her
companion discerned it. When an instrument is very high strung, a quite
soft touch will be felt and answered, and that touch swept all the
strings of Mr. Dillwyn's soul with music.

"If you do not dislike me, then," said he, "what is it? Do you,
possibly _like_ me, Lois?"

Lois could not prevent a little hesitation before she answered, and
that, too, Philip well noted.

"It makes no difference," she said desperately. "It isn't that. Don't
let us talk any more about it! Mr. Dillwyn, the horses have been
walking this great while, and we are a long way from home; won't you
drive on?"

He did drive on then, and for a while said not a word more. Lois was
panting with eagerness to get home, and could not go fast enough; she
would gladly have driven herself, only not quite such a fresh and gay
pair of horses. They swept along towards a region that she could see
from afar was thicker set with lights than the parts where they were.
Before they reached it, however, Mr. Dillwyn drew rein again, and made
the horses walk gently.

"There is one question still I must ask," he said; "and to ask it, I
must for a moment disobey your commands. Forgive me; but when the
happiness of a whole life is at stake, a moment's pain must be
borne--and even inflicted--to make sure one is not suffering needlessly
a far greater evil. Miss Lois, you never do anything without a reason;
tell me your reason for refusing me. You thought I liked some one else;
it is not that; I never have liked any one else. Now, what is it?"

"There is no use in talking," Lois murmured. "It is only pain."

"Necessary pain," said he firmly. "It is right I