to her, and she wanted to run.

"Why? Dad thinks it'd be good for me," went on Belllounds, now, with
strong, self-centered thought. "It'd give me responsibility. I reckon I
need it. Why not soon?"

"Wouldn't it be better to wait awhile?" she asked. "We do not know each
other--let alone care--"

"Columbine, I've fallen in love with you." he declared, hotly.

"Oh, how could you!" cried Columbine, incredulously.

"Why, I always was moony over you--when we were kids," he said. "And now
to meet you grown up like this--so pretty and sweet--such a--a
healthy, blooming girl.... And dad's word that you'd be my wife
soon--_mine_--why, I just went off my head at sight of you."

Columbine looked up at him and was reminded of how, as a boy, he had
always taken a quick, passionate longing for things he must and would
have. And his father had not denied him. It might really be that Jack
had suddenly fallen in love with her.

"Would you want to take me without my--my love?" she asked, very low. "I
don't love you now. I might some time, if you were good--if you made dad
happy--if you conquered--"

"Take you! I'd take you if you--if you hated me," he replied, now in the
grip of passion.

"I'll tell dad how I feel," she said, faintly, "and--and marry you when
he says."

He kissed her, would have embraced her had she not put him back.

"Don't! Some--some one will see."

"Columbine, we're engaged," he asserted, with a laugh of possession.
"Say, you needn't look so white and scared. I won't eat you. But I'd
like to.... Oh, you're a sweet girl! Here I was hating to come home. And
look at my luck!"

Then with a sudden change, that seemed significant of his character, he
lost his ardor, dropped the half-bold, half-masterful air, and showed
the softer side.

"Collie, I never was any good," he said. "But I want to be better. I'll
prove it. I'll make a clean breast of everything. I won't marry you with
any secret between us. You might find out afterward and hate me.... Do
you have any idea where I've been these last three years?"

"No," answered Columbine.

"I'll tell you right now. But you must promise never to mention it to
any one--or throw it up to me--ever."

He spoke hoarsely, and had grown quite white. Suddenly Columbine thought
of Wilson Moore! He had known where Jack had spent those years. He had
resisted a strong temptation to tell her. That was as noble in him as
the implication of Jack's whereabouts had been base