you were even a little better off, I might wisk it, but it is such a
long, long time to wait. Ten years! And, after all, it is not certain.
You might not succeed even then!"

"No, nothing is certain, not even the success of a worldly marriage,
Rosalind! Health may go, riches may take wings and fly away. Suppose
you married Everscourt, and one of these two things came to pass, where
would your happiness be then? There is only one thing which can be
trusted to remain unchanged, and that is the right sort of love. I
could have given you that love, Rosalind, if you had cared enough in
return to trust yourself to me, but I will not persuade you against your
will. I have an uphill fight before me, and I want a wife who will help
me by her faith, not drag me back by her complaining. I was right in
believing that such a poor thing as my love could have no power with you
against other attractions."

A note of bitterness rang in Arthur's voice, despite his effort to
restrain it, and Rosalind winced, and held out her hands with a gesture
of protesting pain.

"You don't understand! You will never understand, and I can't explain.
I can't justify myself, Arthur, or expect you to forgive me, but twy at
least to think of me as kindly as you can. I may not be able to care
for any one in the way you do, but at least I have cared for you most!
I could never be happy again if I thought I had bwoken your heart."

"You have not broken it, Rosalind," said Arthur quietly. "If you had
loved me truly, and I had lost you, it would have been another matter,
but you have never been mine even in imagination. I could not help
loving you, but there was no hope in my love, only the shadow of this
end hanging over all. Now at last the bolt has fallen, and I have to
face the worst. That is all!"

"But you won't--you won't do anything rash?" gasped Rosalind, the sight
of the set face sending a dozen wild thoughts of suicide, emigration,
and the like through her foolish brain. "Pwomise me, pwomise me, to be
careful of yourself! Oh, Arthur, tell me, what do you mean to do?"

Arthur Saville drew himself up with the old soldierly gesture, and the
flash came back to his eyes.

"Do!" he cried. "Bury the past and begin afresh, Rosalind! This is my
second defeat in life, but I'll go on fighting. I'll win my victories
yet!"

Rosalind Darcy looked at him and was silent. He was speaking the truth,
and she realised it, as any one must ha