"

He moved cautiously forward, holding the rail, till he was at her
side, and took her in his arms.

"What is it, dear? Tell me."

She clung to him without speaking.

"You aren't worrying about him, are you--about Dreever? There's
nothing to worry about. It'll be quite easy and simple. I'll tell
him, if you like. He knows you don't care for him; and, besides,
there's a girl in London that he--"

"No, no. It's not that."

"What is it, dear? What's troubling you?"

"Jimmy--" She stopped.

He waited.

"Yes?"

"Jimmy, my father wouldn't--father--father--doesn't--"

"Doesn't like me?"

She nodded miserably.

A great wave of relief swept over Jimmy. He had imagined--he hardly
knew what he had imagined: some vast, insuperable obstacle; some
tremendous catastrophe, whirling them asunder. He could have laughed
aloud in his happiness. So, this was it, this was the cloud that
brooded over them--that Mr. McEachern did not like him! The angel,
guarding Eden with a fiery sword, had changed into a policeman with
a truncheon.

"He must learn to love me," he said, lightly.

She looked at him hopelessly. He could not see; he could not
understand. And how could she tell him? Her father's words rang in
her brain. He was "crooked." He was "here on some game." He was
being watched. But she loved him, she loved him! Oh, how could she
make him understand?

She clung tighter to him, trembling. He became serious again. "Dear,
you mustn't worry," he said. "It can't be helped. He'll come round.
Once we're married--"

"No, no. Oh, can't you understand? I couldn't, I couldn't!"

Jimmy's face whitened. He looked at her anxiously.

"But, dear!" he said. "You can't--do you mean to say--will that--"
he searched for a word-"stop you?" he concluded.

"It must," she whispered.

A cold hand clutched at his heart. His world was falling to pieces,
crumbling under his eyes.

"But--but you love me," he said, slowly. It was as if he were trying
to find the key to a puzzle. "I--don't see."

"You couldn't. You can't. You're a man. You don't know. It's so
different for a man! He's brought up all his life with the idea of
leaving home. He goes away naturally."

"But, dear, you couldn't live at home all your life. Whoever you
married--"

"But this would be different. Father would never speak to me again.
I should never see him again. He would go right out of my life.
Jimmy, I couldn't. A girl can't cut away twenty years of her li