y and feared a failure. This would not do;
the attitude of tension between them must be renewed at once. "You'll
forgive me?" he began, in a quickly impassioned tone. "It was only after
you sang, a dream possessed me, and--"

"I cannot stay to talk with you," Miss Betty interrupted, and added,
with a straightforwardness which made him afraid she would prove
lamentably direct: "I do not know you."

Perhaps she remembered that already one young man had been presented to
her by no better sponsor than a white cat, and had no desire to carry
her unconventionality farther than that. In the present instance there
was not even a kitten.

She turned toward the house, whereupon he gave a little pathetic
exclamation of pleading in a voice that was masterly, being as sincere
as it was musical, and he took a few leaning steps toward her, both
hands outstretched.

"One moment more!" he cried, as she turned again to him. "It may be the
one chance of my life to speak with you; don't deny me this.--All the
rest will meet you when the happy evening comes, will dance with you,
talk with you, see you when they like, listen to you sing. I, alone,
must hover about the gates, or steal like a thief into your garden to
hear you from a distance. Listen to me--just this once--for a moment?"

"I cannot listen," she said firmly; and stood quite still. She was now
in deep shadow.

"I will not believe you merciless! You would not condemn the meanest
criminal unheard!" Remembering that she was so lately from the convent,
he ventured this speech in a deep, thrilling voice, only to receive a
distinct shock for his pains, for she greeted it with an irrepressible,
most unexpected peal of contralto laughter, and his lips parted slightly
with the surprise of it.

They parted much farther in the next instant--in good truth, it may
be stated of the gentleman that he was left with his mouth open--for,
suddenly leaning toward him out of the shadow into the light, her face
shining as a cast of tragedy, she cried in a hoarse whisper:

"Are you a murderer?"

And with that and a whisk of her skirts, and a footfall on the gravel
path, she was gone. He stood dumbfounded, poor comedian, having come to
play the chief role, but to find the scene taken out of his hands. Then
catching the flutter of her wrap, as she disappeared into the darkness
of the veranda, he cried in a loud, manly voice:

"You are a dear!"

As he came out into the street through a gap