ther too little nor too much: one hundred thousand at a
good, safe six per cent will give you an income of six thousand a year.
You can travel on that for the remainder of your natural life."

"Easily," she rejoined. "And you can write the leisurely book and marry
the girl. Perhaps you will be doing both while I am getting ready to go
on my travels. You won't insist upon going back to Ohio with me now,
will you? You--you ought to go straight to the girl, don't you think?"

"You are forgetting that I said she was an imaginary girl," he parried.

"You said so at first; but afterward you admitted that she wasn't. Also,
you promised me you would show me her picture after we should get out of
the woods."

"I have never had her picture," he denied. "I said I would show you what
she looks like. Come to the window where the light is better."

She went with him half-mechanically. Between the two windows there was
an old-fashioned pier-glass set in the wall. Before she realized what he
was doing he had led her before the mirror.

"There she is, Lucetta," he said softly; "the only girl there is--or
ever will be."

She started back with a little cry, putting out her hands as if to push
him away.

"No, Donald--a thousand times no!" she flashed out. "Do you think I
don't know that this is only another way of telling me how sorry you are
for me? You know well enough what people will say when they hear how we
have been together for a whole month, alone; and in your splendid
chivalry you would----"

He did not let her finish. The hotel parlor was supposed to be a public
room, but he ignored that and took her in his arms.

"From the first day, Lucetta, dear--from the very first day!" he argued
passionately. "And it grew and grew with your absolute, your simply
angelic trust in me until I was half-mad with the desire to tell you.
But I couldn't tell you then; I couldn't even let you suspect and still
be what you were believing me to be. Don't you think you could learn, in
time, you know, to--to----"

Her face was hidden, but she made her refusal quite positive.

"No, Donald, I can never learn it--again. Because, you see, in spite of
the other girl I was believing in--that you made me believe in--I--Oh,
it was wicked, _wicked_!--but I couldn't help it! And all the time I was
sc-scared perfectly frantic for fear you would find it out!"

"You were, were you?" he laughed happily. "Perhaps I did find it
out--just a little...."