ut I'm not fickle! From the first moment I saw you, I never cared for
any one but you!"

"You have strange ways of showing your devotion. Well, say you are not
fickle. Say, that I'm fickle. I am. I have changed my mind. I see that it
would never do. I leave you free to follow all the turning and twisting
of your fancy." She spoke rapidly, almost breathlessly, and she gave him
no chance to get out the words that seemed to choke him. She began to
run, but at the door of the hotel she stopped and waited till he came
stupidly up. "I have a favor to ask, Mr. Burnamy. I beg you will not see
me again, if you can help it before we go to-morrow. My father and I are
indebted to you for too many kindnesses, and you mustn't take any more
trouble on our account. August can see us off in the morning."

She nodded quickly, and was gone in-doors while he was yet struggling
with his doubt of the reality of what had all so swiftly happened.

General Triscoe was still ignorant of any change in the status to which
he had reconciled himself with so much difficulty, when he came down to
get into the omnibus for the train. Till then he had been too proud to
ask what had become of Burnamy, though he had wondered, but now he looked
about and said impatiently, "I hope that young man isn't going to keep us
waiting."

Agatha was pale and worn with sleeplessness, but she said firmly, "He
isn't going, papa. I will tell you in the train. August will see to the
tickets and the baggage."

August conspired with the traeger to get them a first-class compartment
to themselves. But even with the advantages of this seclusion Agatha's
confidences to her father were not full. She told her father that her
engagement was broken for reasons that did not mean anything very wrong
in Mr. Burnamy but that convinced her they could never be happy together.
As she did not give the reasons, he found a natural difficulty in
accepting them, and there was something in the situation which appealed
strongly to his contrary-mindedness. Partly from this, partly from his
sense of injury in being obliged so soon to adjust himself to new
conditions, and partly from his comfortable feeling of security from an
engagement to which his assent had been forced, he said, "I hope you're
not making a mistake."

"Oh, no," she answered, and she attested her conviction by a burst of
sobbing that lasted well on the way to the first stop of the train.

LXIX.

It would have been