me out here in
order to pour out confidences about Pauline Lister. Everybody believes
that her loveliness has effected your final capture, and truly, Dal,
truly--I thought so, too." Jane paused.

"Well?" said the quiet voice, with its deep undertone of gladness. "You
know otherwise now."

"Dal--you have so startled and astonished me. I cannot give you an
answer to-night. You must let me have until to-morrow--to-morrow
morning."

"But, beloved," he said tenderly, moving a little nearer, "there is no
more need for you to answer than I felt need to put a question. Can't
you realise this? Question and answer were asked and given just now.
Oh, my dearest--come back to me. Sit down again."

But Jane stood rigid.

"No," she said. "I can't allow you to take things for granted in this
way. You took me by surprise, and I lost my head utterly--unpardonably,
I admit. But, my dear boy, marriage is a serious thing. Marriage is not
a mere question of sentiment. It has to wear. It has to last. It must
have a solid and dependable foundation, to stand the test and strain of
daily life together. I know so many married couples intimately. I stay
in their homes, and act sponsor to their children; with the result that
I vowed never to risk it myself. And now I have let you put this
question, and you must not wonder if I ask for twelve hours to think it
over."

Garth took this silently. He sat down on the stone coping with his back
to the lake and, leaning backward, tried to see her face; but the hand
completely screened it. He crossed his knees and clasped both hands
around them, rocking slightly backward and forward for a minute while
mastering the impulse to speak or act violently. He strove to compose
his mind by fixing it upon trivial details which chanced to catch his
eye. His red socks showed clearly in the moonlight against the white
paving of the terrace, and looked well with black patent-leather shoes.
He resolved always to wear red silk socks in the evening, and wondered
whether Jane would knit some for him. He counted the windows along the
front of the house, noting which were his and which were Jane's, and
how many came between. At last he knew he could trust himself, and,
leaning back, spoke very gently, his dark head almost touching the lace
of her sleeve.

"Dearest--tell me, didn't you feel just now--"

"Oh, hush!". cried Jane, almost harshly, "hush, Dal! Don't talk about
feelings with this question between us. Marr