o the private car, leaving the Burtons to go whither they would.

XXIV

THE END OF A STOP-OVER

The waiter was laying the plates for dinner when Gertrude came out of
her stateroom, and Fleetwell rose and placed a chair for her where they
would be out of earshot of the others.

"Had a comfortably good time to-day?" he inquired, stretching himself
lazily on the lounge at her side.

"Yes. What have you been doing?"

"'Socializing,' as Priscilla says; cantering about all over Denver,
looking up people we shouldn't nod to at home. Where are your friends?"

"The Burtons? I think they went to a hotel. They are not going on till
to-morrow night."

"I wonder what became of the passenger agent; I haven't seen him since
morning," said the collegian, with his eyes lying in wait to pounce upon
her secret.

"He was with us," she replied, calmly, and Fleetwell sat up immediately.

"Oughtn't I to be jealous?" he demanded.

"I don't know why you should be?"

"I fancy the others would say I ought to be."

"Why?"

"For obvious reasons; aren't we supposed to be as good as engaged?"

"I don't know about the supposition; but we are not engaged."

"No; and your father says it's my fault. Will you set the day?"

Her smile was sweet and ineffable. "What an enthusiastic wooer you are,
Cousin Chester. Couldn't you rake up the embers and fan them into a tiny
bit of a blaze? just for form's sake, you know."

"That's nonsense," he answered, placidly. "We've known each other too
long for anything of that sort. But you haven't answered my question."

"About the day? That is nonsense, too. You know perfectly well there
isn't going to be any day--not for us."

Fleetwell drew a long breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Don't let us make any mistake about this," he said, soberly. "I'm
asking you in good faith to be my wife, you know."

"And I am refusing you in equally good faith. I don't love you at
all--not in that way."

"You are quite sure of that?"

"Yes, surer now than ever before, though I've known it all along."

"Then you refuse me point blank?"

"I do."

He fetched another long breath and took her hand.

"That's the kindest thing you ever did for me, Gerty," he said, out of a
full heart. "I--I'm ashamed to confess it, but I've been disloyal all
along. It's----"

"It's Hannah Beaswicke; I knew it," she said, smiling wisely. "But don't
humiliate yourself; I, too, have been 'disloyal,' as you c