t
wanting me. Why should I? I don't belong to it."

"But you do, dear Paul," she cried earnestly. "Even if you could get
rid of your training and mode of thought, you can't get rid of your
essential self. You've always been an aristocrat, and I've always been
a small shop-keeper's daughter and shall continue to be one."

"And I say," Paul retorted, "that we've both sprung from the people,
and are of the people. You've raised yourself above the small
shop-keeping class just as much as I have. Don't let us have any sham
humility about it. Whatever happens you'll always associate with folk
of good-breeding and education. You couldn't go back to Barn Street. It
would be idiotic for me to contemplate such a thing for my part. But
between Barn Street and Mayfair there's a refined and intellectual land
where you and I can meet on equal ground and make our social position.
What do you say?"

She did not look at him, but fingered idly the cards on the tray.
"To-morrow you will think differently. To-night you're all on the
strain."

"And, axing yer pardon, sonny, for chipping in," said the old man,
holding up his pipe in his gnarled fingers, "you haven't told her as
how you loves her--not as how a young woman axed in marriage ought to
be told."

"I've spoken the Truth, dear old friend," said Paul. "I've got down to
bed-rock to-night. I have a deep and loyal affection for Jane. I shan't
waver in it all my life long. I'll soon find my carrot, as she calls
it--it will be England's greatness. She is the woman that will help me
on my path. I've finished with illusions for ever and ever. Jane is the
bravest and grandest of realities. To-night's work has taught me that.
For me, Jane stands for the Truth. Jane--"

He turned to her, but she had risen from her chair, staring at a card
which she held in her hand. Her clear eyes met his for an instant as
she threw the card on the table before him. "No, dear. For you, that's
the Truth."

He took it up and looked at it stupidly. It bore a crown and the
inscription: "The Princess Sophie Zobraska," and a pencilled line, in
her handwriting: "With anxious inquiries." He reeled, as if someone had
dealt him a heavy blow on the head. He recovered to see Jane regarding
him with her serene gravity. "Did you know about this?" he asked dully.

"No. I've just seen the card. I found it at the bottom of the pile."

"How did it come?"

Jane rang the bell. "I don't know. If Annie's still up, we c