ically I have gained my points, though not verbally. I
have profound faith in woman's dogged persistence. It can achieve
anything--even win your love, Morgan. Let me see. How far had we got?
You were to kiss me on the forehead once each time? And this stage has
four months to run before any advance can be made."

Her reference to her love for him chilled him. Somehow he now believed
in it as real, though he had always taken it as a toying pretence. He
had come to her to-day as to a comrade--to feel himself in shelter for
a little while, and for the luxury of opening his heart to her. And
now there came upon him a great sense of guilt towards Helen, perhaps
accentuated at that moment when his consciousness of her worth had
arrived at its fullest and had endeared her to him more than ever
before. He was filled with remorse as he remembered he had taken
pleasure in keeping from her the knowledge of Margaret's very
existence, when Margaret was for him all that Helen aspired to be.

His habit of keeping the various threads of his life distinct had led
him to omit the consideration of what might be involved in their
subtle relation, for they were all necessarily related since they were
merged in the wholeness of his life; and it seemed to him now, all
a-thrill as he was with Helen's sympathy, he had behaved abominably in
not telling her that his spirit vibrated only for Margaret, that the
thought of Margaret brought him all the magic emotion that floats and
palpitates, like some wondrous sweet perfume, and that the elect who
love true alone may know.

He had already told her to-day much of what he had hidden from her.
Let him complete the confession and reveal even what was most sacred
to him. Even now he was conscious of certain instincts that made for
reservation, but he fought against them.

"Helen," he called, "I wonder whether you would care to listen to the
sentimental chapters."

She had been watching his face whilst he had hesitated and she now
grew white.

"You know we used to talk quite a deal about those sentimental
chapters," he went on. "There was a sweet little girl, too, whose
existence you suspected."

"I remember," said Helen faintly. "We did talk about those chapters,
but you would never let me get a glimpse of what was inside them. And
then I could never really learn whether they were real or imaginary.
As a woman of the world, I believed there must be such chapters in the
biography of a young man