the middle of the room, almost
shouting--'Do you suppose I care what you use? Any kind will do!--any
kind!'

The woman fled, and the red-haired girl looked at her own reflection in
the glass for an instant and covered her face with her hands. It was as
though she had shouted some shameless secret aloud.

CHAPTER VII

Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.

She would none of all my posies,--
Bade me gather her blue roses.

Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew;
Half the world unto my quest
Answered but with laugh and jest.

It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.

Mine was but an idle quest,--
Roses white and red are best!--Blue Roses

THE SEA had not changed. Its waters were low on the mud-banks, and
the Marazion Bell-buoy clanked and swung in the tide-way. On the white
beach-sand dried stumps of sea-poppy shivered and chattered.

'I don't see the old breakwater,' said Maisie, under her breath.

'Let's be thankful that we have as much as we have. I don't believe
they've mounted a single new gun on the fort since we were here. Come
and look.'

They came to the glacis of Fort Keeling, and sat down in a nook
sheltered from the wind under the tarred throat of a forty-pounder
cannon.

'Now, if Ammoma were only here!' said Maisie.

For a long time both were silent. Then Dick took Maisie's hand and
called her by her name.

She shook her head and looked out to sea.

'Maisie, darling, doesn't it make any difference?'

'No!' between clenched teeth. 'I'd--I'd tell you if it did; but it
doesn't, Oh, Dick, please be sensible.'

'Don't you think that it ever will?'

'No, I'm sure it won't.'

'Why?'

Maisie rested her chin on her hand, and, still regarding the sea, spoke
hurriedly--'I know what you want perfectly well, but I can't give it to
you, Dick. It isn't my fault; indeed, it isn't. If I felt that I
could care for any one----But I don't feel that I care. I simply don't
understand what the feeling means.'

'Is that true, dear?'

'You've been very good to me, Dickie; and the only way I can pay you
back is by speaking the truth. I daren't tell a fib. I despise myself
quit enough as it is.'

'What in the world for?'

'Because--because I take everything that you give me and I give you
nothing in return. It's mean and selfish of me, and whenever I think of
it it