influence.
What was he to say to this girl? Was he to allow all that had passed
between them to slip? Never had he felt so ill at ease. At last,
fixing his eyes upon her, he said--

"Let us cease this trifling. Perhaps you do not know how painful it
is to me. Tell me, will you come and see me? Do not let us waste
time. I never see you alone now."

"I could not think of coming to see you; it would not be right."

"But you did come once."

"That was because I wanted to see where you lived. Now that I know,
there would be no reason for coming again."

"You have not forgiven me. If you knew how I regret my conduct! Try
and understand that it was for love of you. I was so fearful of
losing you. I have lost you; I know it!"

He cursed himself for the irresolution he had shown. Had he made her
his mistress she would now be hanging about his neck.

"I forgive you. But I wish you would not speak of love in connection
with your conduct; when you do, all my liking for you dies."

"How cruel! Then I shall never kiss you again. Was my kiss so
disagreeable? Do you hate to kiss me?"

"I don't know that I do, but it is not right. If I were married to
you it would be different."

The conversation fell. Then realizing that he was compromising his
chances, he said--

"How can I marry you? I haven't a cent in the world."

"I am not sure I would marry you if you had every cent in the world."

Mike looked at her in despair. She was adorably frail and adorably
pale.

"This is very cruel of you." Words seemed very weak, and he feared
that in the restlessness and pain of his love he had looked at her
foolishly. So he almost welcomed Lady Helen's intrusion upon their
_tete-a-tete_.

"And this is the way you come for your dance, Mr. Fletcher, is it?"

"Have they begun dancing? I did not know it. I beg your pardon."

"And I too am engaged for this dance. I promised it to Mr. Escott,"
said Lily.

"Let me take you back."

He gave her his arm, assuring himself that if she didn't care for him
there were hundreds who did. Lady Helen was one of the handsomest
women in London, and he fancied she was thinking of him. And when he
returned he stood at the door watching her as she leaned over the
mantelpiece reading a letter. She did not put it away at once, but
continued reading and playing with the letter as one might with
something conclusive and important. She took no precaution against
his seeing it, and he noticed that it was