t that moment, a
tall athletic figure dashed swiftly to the hole and, stooping quickly,
caught the child by the dress. Then, by a feat of almost superhuman
strength which awed the crowd into silence, he drew the little victim
out to safety, not much the worse for her experience.

Spellbound, hardly able to breathe from sheer excitement, Helen had
watched the work of rescue. When the stranger, tall, muscular,
handsome, passed her, carrying tenderly his burden, a human life saved
from a watery grave, she could not help murmuring:

"Oh, how brave of you!"

"Nonsense," he retorted abruptly. "It's nothing to make a fuss about."

She did not see him again for six months, and had almost forgotten the
incident when one night at the opera during a performance of
"Tannhauser," a man, tall, square shouldered, entered the box where she
was and was presented to her.

"Helen--Mr. Traynor."

It was her hero.

He had remained her hero ever since.

She remembered the afternoon when he had asked her to be his wife.
They were alone in the library which overlooked the Park with its
beautiful vista of green foliage, its glimpse of rolling lawns, and
shimmering lakes. They were standing side by side, gazing idly out of
the window, conversing quietly on all kinds of topics interesting to
them both. She was enjoying his vigorous, masculine point of view and
feeling strangely happy in his company.

"When should a man marry?" he asked all at once.

Startled for a moment at the abruptness of the question which nothing
in their previous conversation had led up to, she answered gravely:

"When he's tired of being alone and when he feels he has met the woman
with whom he can be happy, the kind of woman who will be a real
helpmate and aid him to achieve his ambitions."

"How can he know that the woman to whom he is attracted will have this
influence in his life? How can he distinguish real gold from the
imitation which merely glitters?"

"Only by his instinct. That never errs."

"And when in your opinion, should a woman marry?"

"When she meets the man to whom she feels she can give herself without
forfeiting her self-respect."

He nodded approvingly, and looked at her for a few moments without
speaking. Outside it was growing dark, for which she was glad, for her
face burned under the earnestness of his gaze. Finally he said:

"You are right. But yours is a point of view the modern girl seldom
takes. First she discus