en with such a terrible meaning. It was heaven to
know that she believed in him so--heaven to realise that her trust was
so infinite.

"There is nothing to tell," he repeated with dreary monotony.

"But there is, Paul. You can save yourself if you will, you know you
can." He did not speak, but sat still, looking at her with steady gaze.

"Will you leave me so?" she went on. "I will not plead with you for
your own sake, or for your own happiness, but will you not for mine?
Think, Paul! I love you. All that I have and am belong to you. To
lose you will be losing everything. Will you not, for my sake, speak?
There, Paul"--she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him--"there,
Paul, I love you; I love you more than life. Will you not tell me for
my life's happiness?"

He knew what temptation meant then, as he had never known it before.
His heart hungered for her as even he had never thought it could
hunger. His whole being cried out for her and for happiness, and if he
would but speak, then everything became possible; while if he were
silent----

It seemed as though his mind were giving way, as though the trial were
too hard to bear. God, if there were a God at all, could never expect
him to give up such a joy. He was young--only a little more than a lad
in years--with life all before him, with glorious possibilities, and
the love of Mary Bolitho. While she, she who stood there, was glorious
in her youth and in her beauty. She, who, with the sacrifice of all
that lesser women hold so dear, had come to him and besought him to
enter into the joy he longed for. Oh, he could not give her up; he
must speak.

He nerved himself to tell her, nerved himself to relate the story of
his life, and the story of what he was sure his mother had done; but
even as he did so, he saw his mother's face. He remembered her years
of loneliness and disappointment and sorrow. He remembered how her
life had been blackened and broken, and that she had done everything
for him. No, he could not, he could not.

"There is nothing to tell." He reiterated the words as though they
were some formula, and he thought indeed all was over. But to his
surprise, the girl laughed again.

"Do you think I don't know you, Paul? Do you think I am going to give
up our happiness without a struggle? Do you think I am going to allow
you to go down to your grave without fighting for you? You will not
tell me, but I'm going to find out! I