the least know me. I am not
even what you imagine me to be. I am a fraud, a cheat, a masquerader.
Know me! Why, if you did, instead of speaking words of love you would
despise; instead of seeking, you would run away. Oh, let us end this
farce forever; it is as painful to myself as to you. Promise me, Ned
Winston, that you will return to Denver."

She tantalized, tempted him even while she thus openly renounced. He
struggled madly with an almost overmastering desire to burst forth in
strenuous denial, to lay his whole life unreservedly at her feet. Yet
something within the girl's resolute face steadied him, made him feel
her decision as unchangeable.

"Beth--you--you will not listen?"

"No--not to another word."

"You do not believe me?"

He marked the quick restraining pressure of her lips, the tumultuous
rise and fall of her breast.

"Yes, I believe you," she admitted, almost wearily. "You mean it--now;
but--but it is impossible. I wish you to go."

An instant Winston stood looking straight into those dark, glowing
eyes, and all his inherited strength of manhood came trooping back to
aid him. He comprehended in that moment of intense resolution that
this woman had become the whole world to him. That one fact never
would change. It came over him as a distinct revelation untinged by
either despair or hope. It was merely an unalterable truth, which he
must henceforth face as fate willed. He was of fighting blood, and the
seeming obstacles in the way of success did not dismay; they merely
served to inspire him to greater efforts.

"Unfortunately, I am not at present free to go," he replied, more
quietly, "for the reason that I have already accepted some professional
work here. However, I agree not to trouble you again with my presence
until--"

He paused in uncertainty as to his next word.

"What?"

"You give me welcome."

She extended her hand.

"You certainly speak with sufficient confidence."

"'Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,'" he quoted lightly; "and I
herewith announce myself a firm believer in miracles."

"Then your faith is about to be put to a most severe test."

"I welcome that. Yet, if parting is insisted upon, we can, at least,
remain friends. You certainly do not hold my words against me?"

The flush, although fainter, again crept into the clear cheeks, and her
eyes fell before this questioning.

"No true woman ever remains wholly indifferent," she acknowledge