uch a little word. And yet he evaded it and she saw that he meant
to evade it.

"Enough to have you almost in my arms and yet hardly to touch
you--enough to have your lips within reach of mine and yet not to take
them. Isn't that what you wanted, Beth? Gentleness, tenderness----"

She flung away from him desperately.

"No--no. I want nothing--nothing. Please! You don't want to understand."
And then with an effort she found her poise. "Things must be as they
are. Nothing else. It's getting late, I must go."

"Beth--Not yet. Just a minute----"

"No."

But she did not go and only stood still, trembling with irresolution. He
knew what she wanted him to say. There could be no middle ground for
Beth. She must be all to him or nothing. Marriage. It was the Grand Duke
Peter Nicholaevitch who had evaded this very moment while Peter Nichols
had urged him to it. And it was Peter Nichols who knew that any words
spoken of marriage to Beth Cameron would be irrevocable, the Grand Duke
Peter (an opportunist) who urged him to utter them, careless of
consequences. And there stood Beth adorable in her perplexity, conjuring
both of him to speak.

It was Peter Nichols who met the challenge, oblivious of all counsels of
pride, culture, vainglory and hypocrisy. This was his mate, a sweeter
lady than any he had ever known.

"Beth," he whispered. "I love you. Nothing in the world makes any
difference to me but your happiness."

He came to her and caught her in his arms, while she still struggled
away from him. "I want you. It doesn't matter who I am or who you are. I
want you to----"

Beth suddenly sprung away from him, staring at a figure which stood in
the doorway as a strident, highly pitched voice cut in sharply on
Peter's confession.

"Oh, excuse _me_! I didn't mean to intrude."

It was Miss Peggy McGuire in her _cerise_ veil and her sport suit, with
hard eyes somewhat scandalized by what she had seen, for Peter was
standing awkwardly, his arms empty of their prize, who had started back
in dismay and now stood with difficulty recovering her self-possession.
As neither of them spoke Miss McGuire went on cuttingly, as she glanced
curiously around the Cabin.

"So this is where you live? I seem to have spoiled your party. And may I
ask who----" and her eyes traveled scornfully over Beth's figure,
beginning at her shoes and ending at her flushed face--"I think I've
seen you before----"

"Miss McGuire," said Peter quietly, "Th