e you still worrying about the
future?" he said.

"I don't know that I am exactly worrying," she made low reply. "But I
shall have to decide about it very soon."

Scott was silent for a space while he finished his cigarette. Then at
last slowly, haltingly, he spoke. "Dinah,--I have been thinking about the
future too. If I touch upon anything that hurts you, you must stop me,
and I will not say another word. But, child, it seems to me that we shall
both be--rather lost--when Isabel is gone. I wonder--would it shock you
very much--if I suggested to you--as a solution of the difficulty--that
we should some day in the future enter into partnership together?"

He spoke with obvious effort; his hands were gripped upon the arms of his
chair. The wicker creaked in the strain of his grasp, but he himself
remained lying back with eyes half-closed in compulsory inaction.

Dinah also sat absolutely still. If his words amazed her, she gave no
sign. Only the wistfulness about her mouth deepened as she made answer
below her breath. "It--is just like you to suggest such a thing;
but--it is quite impossible."

He opened his eyes and looked at her very steadily and kindly. "Quite?"
he said.

She bent her head, swiftly lowering her own. "Yes--thank you a million
times--quite."

"Even if I promise never to make love to you?" he said, his voice
half-quizzical, half-tender.

She put out a trembling hand and laid it on his arm. "Oh,
Scott,--it--isn't that!"

He took the hand and held it. "My dear, don't cry!" he urged gently. "I
knew you wouldn't have me really. I only thought I would just place
myself completely at your disposal in case--some day--you might be
willing to give me the chance to serve you in any capacity whatever.
There! It is over. We are as we were--friends."

He smiled at her with the words, and after a moment stooped and lightly
touched her fingers with his lips.

"Come!" he said gently. "I haven't frightened you anyway. Have I?"

"No," she whispered.

His hand clasped hers for a second or two longer, then quietly let it go.
"Don't be distressed!" he said, "I will never do it again. I am now--and
always--your trusty friend."

And with that he rose in his slow way, paused to light another cigarette,
smiled again upon her, and softly went indoors.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE LAST SUMMONS

There is nought in life more solemn than the waiting hush that falls
before the coming of that great Change which men