son why I should say good-bye--save for a time?"

He had risen from his chair as he spoke, and was standing before her.
Lettice shaded her eyes with her hands. Ah, if she could only give way
to the temptation which she felt vaguely aware that he was going to
raise! If she could only be weak in spite of her resolution to be
strong, if she could only take to herself at once the one consolation
and partnership which would satisfy her soul, how instantly would her
depression pass away! How easily with one word could she change the
whole current and complexion of life for the man who was bending over
her! He was still only half-redeemed from ruin; he might fall a prey to
despair again, if she shrank in the supreme moment from the sacrifice
demanded of her.

Alan did not know how her heart was pleading for him. Something, indeed,
he divined, as he saw her trembling and shaken by the strife within. His
heart bounded with sudden impulse from every quickened vein, and his
lips drew closer to her hidden face.

"Lettice!"

There was infinite force and tenderness in the whispered word, and it
pierced her to the quick. She dropped her hands, and looked up.

But one responsive word or glance, and he would have taken her in his
arms. He understood her face, her eyes, too well to do it. She gave him
no consent; if he kissed her, if he pressed her to his breast, he felt
that he should dominate her body only, not her soul. And he was not of
that coarse fibre which could be satisfied so. If Lettice did not give
herself to him willingly, she must not give herself at all.

"Lettice!" he said again, and there was less passion but more entreaty
in his tone than before he met that warning glance, "will you not let me
speak?"

"Is there anything for us to say," she asked, very gently, "except
_good-bye_?"

"Would you turn me away into the cold from the warmth and brightness of
your home, Lettice? Don't be angry with me for saying so. I have had
very little joy or comfort in my life of late, and it is to you that I
owe all that I know of consolation. You have rescued me from a very hell
of despair and darkness, and brought me into paradise. Now do you bid me
go? Lettice, it would be cruel. Tell me to stay with you ... and to the
last hour of my life I will stay."

He was standing beside her, with one hand on the wooden arm of her
circular chair. She put her hand over his fingers almost caressingly,
and looked up at him again, with tea