and weakly away.

He had taken the ring mechanically from her, and he stood a moment
bewildered; then he pressed after her.

"Agatha, do you--you don't mean--"

"Yes," she said, without looking round at his face, which she knew was
close to her shoulder. "It's over. It isn't what you've done. It's what
you are. I believed in you, in spite of what you did to that man--and
your coming back when you said you wouldn't--and--But I see now that what
you did was you; it was your nature; and I can't believe in you any
more."

"Agatha!" he implored. "You're not going to be so unjust! There was
nothing between you and me when that girl was here! I had a right to--"

"Not if you really cared for me! Do you think I would have flirted with
any one so soon, if I had cared for you as you pretended you did for me
that night in Carlsbad? Oh, I don't say you're false. But you're
fickle--"

"But 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 themse