ully, to give the kiss upon his lips. But it was not the breath
of a caress she would have made it. Invalids are sometimes possessed of
unsuspected reserves of strength.

She turned away then in a pretty confusion, said, "Good-night," and
went slowly toward the door.

"Oh, come back!" he cried. "Tell me--you will write often?"

"Oh, yes; every--month."

"Month? Won't you write every mail?"

"Oh, Jerry!"

"Every week, then?"

"Will you?"

"I will, whether you do or not."

"Your ideas of friendship----"

"Are they too exacting?"

"No-o," she admitted, as if reluctantly. She was behind him now, her
hands clasped together tightly, her eyes glowing with the light of a
frightened purpose which was over-mastering her. He tried to turn and
see her, but she defeated this.

"Please come here," he begged.

She was silent, trying to breathe more naturally.

"Please----"

"What good will it do?" she asked at last. "I shall have to go, and
you--won't----"

"Won't--what?"

She crept up close behind his chair.

"--_say it_," she whispered.

He reached out his hand with a commanding gesture. "Nan, come here.
Say--what?"

She bent over the back of his chair and laid a soft, trembling hand on
each side of his face.

"Please say it," she breathed.

He seized her hands and drew them to his lips. "Nan, you are tempting me
almost beyond my power. Do you mean to tempt me? Are you trying to?"

She leaned low, so that her breath swept his cheek, and whispered,
"Yes."

"Oh, my God," he groaned. "Nan--are you insane? What if I say it--then
how much worse will it be? I can bear it better as it is now--and
you--can't mean it."

"_Say it!_" came the breath in his ear again.

He was silent for a while, breathing heavily. Presently he began to
speak in a quiet tone whose vibrations showed, nevertheless, the most
rigid self-control. He still held her hands, resting there upon his
shoulders, but he made no further effort to see her face.

"Nan," he said, "this friendship you give me is the dearest thing I ever
knew. It is worth everything to me. Let me keep it while you go away
for your year of work. Be the warmest friend to me you know how, and
write me everything about yourself. Meanwhile--keep your heart free
for--the man will surely come to claim it some day--a man who will be
worthy of you in every way, soul, mind, and--body. I shall be happy in
your----"

Her hand pulled itself away from his, and was laid wi