tterin' this minute! Ye're jokin'; say you don't mean it."

"But I do. Don't you see that I can't stay and let you do things for me
like this"--she indicated their apartment--"when I do so little to earn
it all? Mart, I've got to be honest about it. I can't let you spend any
more money on me. Help your own people, and let me go. I do nothing to
pay for what you do for me. It's better for me to go."

She could not bring herself to be as explicit as she should have been,
but he was not far from understanding her real meaning, as he brokenly
replied: "I've been afraid of this, my girl. I've thought of it all. The
money I spend fer ye is but a small part of my debt. You say you do
nothing for me. Why, darlin', every time you come into the room or smile
at me you do much for me! I'm a selfish old wolf, but I'm not so bad as
you think I am. If anny nice young felly comes along--a good square
man--I'll get off the track; but I want you to let me stay near you as
long as I live." His voice was hoarse with pleading. "Ye're all I have
in the world; all I live for now is to make you happy. Don't pull away
now, when me old heart has grown all round ye. I can't live and I
daren't die without ye--now that's the eternal truth. Darlin', promise
ye won't go--yet awhile."

Wordless, as full of pain as he, she sat silently weeping, unable to
carry out her resolution--unable to express the change which had come
into her life.

He went on. "I mark the difference between us. I see ye goin' up while I
am goin' down. My heart is big with pride in ye. You belong with people
like the Congdons and the Mosses--whilst I am only an old broken-down
skate. I'm worse than you know. I went down to Sibley first with hell in
me heart towards you, but that soon passed away--I loved ye as a man
should love the girl he marries--and I love ye now as I love the saints.
I wouldn't mar your young life fer anything in this world--'tis me wish
to lave you as beautiful and fresh as I found you, and to give you all I
have besides--so stay with me, if you can, till the other man comes."
Here a new thought intruded. "Has he come now? Tell me if he has. Did ye
find him in Chicago? Be honest, darlin'."

"No, no!" she answered. "It isn't that. It's just because--because it
don't seem right."

"Then ye must stay with me," he said, "and don't worry about not doing
things for me. You do things for me every minute--just by being in the
world. If I can see ye or hear ye