d turned sharply, biting his lips lest he lose all
self-control.

"Could you and your father spare him?" he asked carelessly.

"Oh, if you only would give him that chance!" she cried. "But--tell
me--_how_ can we accept such a thing of you? Is it possible?"

"Would _you_ accept it?" he asked, turning toward her.

The question startled her. She looked at him, striving to think clearly,
trying to see this offered miracle through calm, impartial eyes.

"I--I would do anything--almost--for Jim," she said. "I'd have no pride
left, if his chances lay in the balance. But men--my father--may be
different."

He said slowly: "Suppose I offered the same chance to you?"

"What!" she said crisply.

"Suppose I offered you a college finishing, Miss Herold. Would you
accept?"

She slowly grew scarlet under his gaze. "That would be insulting," she
said, in a low voice.

"Why, when only kindness is meant--as I mean it for Jim?"

"It is not the same. I am a grown woman capable of caring for myself.
Such an offer, however kindly meant, could only hurt me, humiliate
me--and--I thought you found me companionable as I am. Friends do not
offer to better each other--in such a way."

"I have not offered it to you, Miss Herold."

She looked up, still flushed and brilliant eyed; then her face changed
softly. "I know it. I was foolishly sensitive. I know you couldn't offer
such a thing to me. But I wish I knew whether we could accept for Jim.
He is such a darling--so intelligent and perfectly crazy for an
education. I've saved a little--that's why I wanted you to hire me for
your bayman. You see I don't spend anything on myself," she added, with
a blush.

Marche was fighting hard for self-restraint; he was young and romantic,
and his heart was very full. "What I'd like to do," he said, "would be
to send Jim to some first-rate school until he is ready for college.
Then I'd like to see him through college, and, if he cared for it, start
him with me in business."

"Oh," she cried softly, "is it possible! Is there--can any man really do
such heavenly things? Have you any idea what you are saying? Do you
realize what you are doing to me--with every word you utter?"

"What am I doing to--to you?" he asked unsteadily.

"Making me your slave," she said, in a low voice, thrilling with
generous passion. "Even for the thought--even if father will not
accept--what you have said to me to-night has put me in your debt
forever. Truly--truly,