credit or to your discredit?"
inquired he.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you've just told me that you haven't given Stanley anything at
all for his money--that you've cheated him outright. The thing itself
is discreditable, but your tone suggests that you think I'll admire you
for it."

"Do you mean to say that you'd think more highly of me if I were--what
most women would be in the same circumstances?"

"I mean to say that I think the whole business is discreditable to both
of you--to his intelligence, to your character."

"You are frank," said she, trying to hide her anger.

"I am frank," replied he, undisturbed. He looked at her. "Why should
I not be?"

"You know that I need you, that I don't dare resent," said she. "So
isn't it--a little cowardly?"

"Why do you need me? Not for money, for you know you'll not get that."

"I don't want it," cried she, agitated. "I never thought of it."

"Yes, you've probably thought of it," replied he coolly. "But you will
not get it."

"Well, that's settled--I'll not get it."

"Then why do you need me? Of what use can I be to you? Only one use
in the world. To tell you the truth--the exact truth. Is not that so?"

"Yes," she said. "That is what I want from you--what I can't get from
anyone else. No one else knows the truth--not even Mrs. Brindley,
though she's intelligent. I take back what I said about your being
cowardly. Oh, you do stab my vanity so! You mustn't mind my crying
out. I can't help it--at least, not till I get used to you."

"Cry out," said he. "It does no harm."

"How wonderfully you understand me!" exclaimed she. "That's why I let
you say to me anything you please."

He was smiling peculiarly--a smile that somehow made her feel
uncomfortable. She nerved herself for some still deeper stab into her
vanity. He said, his gaze upon her and ironical:

"I'm sorry I can't return the compliment."

"What compliment?" asked she.

"Can't say that you understand me. Why do you think I am doing this?"

She colored. "Oh, no indeed, Mr. Keith," she protested, "I don't think
you are in love with me--or anything of that sort. Indeed, I do not. I
know you better than that."

"Really?" said he, amused. "Then you are not human."

"How can you think me so vain?" she protested.

"Because you are so," replied he. "You are as vain--no more so, but
just as much so--as the average pretty and attractive woman brought up
as you have been. Y