held out her hands to him, but
he only took them and carried them to his lips, and kissed them.

As soon as she was alone she flung herself down and cried, "Oh, give me
strength to follow this man, who mistakes his love of me for the love of
God!" But even while she sat with bent head and her hands over her face
the creeping sense came back as of another woman within her who was
fighting for her heart. She had conquered again, but at what a cost! The
foreign mission field--what associations had she with that? Only the
memory of her father's lonely life and friendless death.

She was feeling cold and had begun to shiver, when the door opened and
Rosa entered.

"So he _did_ come again?"

"Yes."

"I thought he would," and Rosa laughed coldly.

"What do you mean?"

"That when religious feelings take possession of a man he will stop at
nothing to gain the end he has in view."

"Rosa," said Glory, flushing crimson, "if you imply that my friend is
capable of one unworthy act or thought I must ask you to withdraw your
words absolutely and at once!"

"Very well, dear. I was only thinking for your own good. We working women
must not ruin our lives or let anybody else ruin them. 'Duty,'
'self-sacrifice'--I know the old formulas, but I don't believe in them.
Obey your own heart, my dear, that is your first duty. A man like Storm
would take you out of your real self, and stop your career, and----"

"Oh, my career, my career! I'm tired to death of hearing of it!"

"Glory!"

"And who knows? I may not go on with it, after all."

"If you have lost your sense of duty to yourself, have you forgotten your
duty to Mr. Drake? Think what Mr. Drake has done for you!"

"Mr. Drake! Mr. Drake! I'm sick of that too."

"How strange you are to-night, Glory!"

"Am I? So are you. It is Mr. Drake here and Mr. Drake there! Are you
trying to force me into his arms?"

"Is it you that says that, Glory--you? and to me, too? Don't you see that
this is a different case altogether? And if I thought of my own feelings
only--consulted my own heart----"

"Rosa!"

"Ah! Is it so very foolish? Yes, he is young and handsome, and rich and
brilliant, while I--I am ridiculous."

"No, no, Rosa; I don't mean that."

"I do, though; and when you came in between us--young and beautiful and
clever--everything that I was not, and could never hope to be--and he
was so drawn to you--what was I to do? Nurse my hopeless and ridiculous
love--or think of