in my thoughts I
performed even more prodigious deeds of valour in her behalf than the
hero to whom she inevitably plighted her troth in the final chapter. In
real life, however, I've never been in a position to do anything more
heroic than give up my seat in trolley-cars to ladies of all ages,--By
the way, have you never longed desperately to be a heroine?"

"Of course, I have," she cried, smiling in spite of herself. Her eyes
were sparkling again, for the danger was past. "And I have loved a
hundred heroes,--madly." She hesitated and then went on impulsively: "We
haven't been very friendly, Mr. Percival. Perhaps I am to blame. In any
case, you have been very generous and forbearing. That is more than I
have been. I never thought I could bring myself to the point of saying
this to you. Can't we be friends again?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Do you mean to go back to where we were before--Well, before we
clashed?"

"Yes,--if you will put it in that way."

"I can't go back to that stage," he said, shaking his head. "You may
have stood still, Miss Clinton, but I have progressed."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You will, after you reflect awhile," he said.

She drew back, in a sudden panic. She spoke hurriedly, her composure
wrecked.

"I--at least, Mr. Percival, I have done my part. If you do not care
to be friends, I--I have nothing more to say. We must go on just as we
were,--and I am sorry. I have done my part."

"I do not want to distress you," he said huskily. "If I were to tell
you why it is best for us to go on as we are, you would lose what little
faith you may still have in me. I have not always been able to conceal
my feelings. You do not care as I do,--and I have been pretty much of
a rotter in showing you just how I feel from time to time,--an ordinary
bounder, and God knows I hate the word,--so there's nothing more I can
say without distressing and offending you. I want you to feel perfectly
secure so far as I am concerned. We are out here alone in the night. If
I were to let go of myself now and say what I want to say to you,--well,
you would be frightened and hurt and,--God knows I wouldn't hurt you for
the world. I hope you understand, Miss Clinton."

She had had time to fortify herself.

"Yes,--I understand," she said, but not without a strange wonder filling
her mind.

He was fair,--and yet he was baffling. She had not expected this rare
trait in him. Men she had known were not like