he said sharply. "In times like this, one can't
stop to pick for rhetorical effects. It is enough that I love you with
all the manhood there is in me, and that for months I have counted upon
winning your love in return. And now--"

She interrupted him.

"And now you have found out your mistake," she said sadly.

"Yes." There was a long interval of silence, before he added, "And is
this final?"

"It is." Her stiffened lips could scarcely form the words.

He turned to go away. All the alertness which had marked his coming had
dropped away from him. He moved slowly and with drooping shoulders.
Already his face had grown haggard underneath the bronzing of his sea
voyage. Beatrix stood motionless, watching him, struggling to master
herself, to hold herself firmly to her resolve which had been taking
shape within her, during all that past winter and spring.

Halfway across the room, Thayer hesitated, turned and came back to her
side.

"Beatrix," he said impetuously; "we may as well face this thing
squarely. It won't be the first time. We didn't wreck the future then;
we mustn't do it now. The cases are different, though. This time, the
danger lies in half-truths. We must speak plainly."

She attempted to check him; but, for the once, she was powerless to stem
the tide of his words, and he hurried on,--

"We loved each other. There is no disloyalty to Lorimer in admitting it
now. He belonged to the past, and, in that past, you belonged to him.
The past is over and ended now, and, for the future, we must belong to
each other. It is for that that I am here."

She tried in vain to control her voice. Then she shook her head.

"What has come between us?" he demanded. "You did love me. Look up,
Beatrix! Yes, your eyes tell the truth about it. You love me now; I am
here to prove it, and to marry you in spite of yourself."

Gently she put away his arms and faced him.

"No. It is impossible."

He wavered before the finality of her tone.

"But you love me," he urged.

She was silent, and stood with her eyes fixed on the floor at his feet.
Then, of a sudden, she raised her eyes to his, and Thayer was dazzled by
the light that was shining in them.

"Yes," she answered, with a quiet dignity which he could not gainsay.
"And that is the very reason that I will not marry you. I love you too
well--so well that I can never allow you to become the father of Sidney
Lorimer's child."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"I believ