nd made me happy
again. I never dreamt that it was serious until a little time ago--last
week--and even then I did not think you could possibly want to marry
me--you were too young--you had no home--"

"No, that is true. I am no match for Miss Sackville. I was a fool to
forget it. Thank you for reminding me," he interrupted bitterly.

Poor boy--oh, poor boy, he looked so miserable--it made me ache to see
his white, changed face. He looked so handsome, too; so much more of a
man than he had ever done before. I looked at him and wondered why it
was that I could not care for him as he wished. Had I been too hasty in
deciding that it was impossible? He wanted me, and no one else did; and
it would be nice to be engaged and have someone to love me best of all.
Perhaps I should grow to love him too; I always do like people who like
me; and Lorna would be so pleased. She would be my real sister, and
could come and stay with me in my own home. I was so upset and
miserable, so stung by Wallace's taunt about his poverty, that I was
just in the mind to be reckless. His hand lay limply by his side, and
in a sudden gush of tenderness and pity I slid my arm beneath it and
said softly, "Don't be cross with me! I never thought for one moment if
you were poor or rich. That doesn't matter a bit. If I have made you
miserable, I am miserable too. If you want me to be engaged to you--I
will, and I'll try to like you. Please, please do not look like that!
If I promise it will be all right, and you will forgive me for being so
thoughtless, won't you, Wallace?"

He turned his head and stared at me steadily. The anger died out of his
face, but he looked dreadfully sad.

"Poor Una," he said, "how little you understand! Do you think I am such
a cad as to accept such an offer as that? I love you and want you to be
happy, not miserable as you would certainly be if you were engaged to a
man you had to `try to like.' Thank you for the offer all the same. It
will comfort me a little to remember that at any rate you felt kindly
towards me. It is no use saying any more. My dream is over, and I
shall have to bear the awakening as well as I can. A fellow cannot
expect to have everything his own way. I don't want to whine. Shall we
go back to the house?"

"In a minute--one minute--only tell me first that you forgive me, and if
there is nothing at all that I can do to help you, and show how
wretchedly, wretchedly sorry I am!"