me I shall be able to be of service
to you, but remember that whatever happens, no matter how you reply to
me now, I shall never forget your goodness to me, and I shall try to
repay it. I love you with all my heart and soul; I want you to be my
wife, dear! I never knew before that such love could exist in the
world! You have your father, I know, but, oh, I want to protect you
and care for you, and keep all harm from you forever."

"Guy!" Her voice was a mere breathless whisper, and her eyes blurred
with sudden tears, but he slipped his arm about her, and drew her
close.

"Emily, won't you look at me, dear? Won't you tell me that you care,
too? That at least there is a chance for me? If I have spoken too
soon, I will await patiently and serve you as Jacob served for Rebecca
of old. Only tell me that you will try to care, and there is nothing
on this earth I cannot do for you, nothing I will not do! Oh, my
darling, say that you care just a little!"

There was a pause and then very softly a warm arm stole about his
neck, and a strand of rippling brown hair brushed his cheek lightly as
her gentle head drooped against his shoulder.

"I--I do care--now," she whispered. "I knew that I cared when
you--went away!"

The minutes lengthened into an hour or more while Morrow in the thrall
of his exalted mood forgot for the second time in the girl's sweet
presence his battle between love and duty: forgot the reason for his
coming, the mission he was bound to fulfill--the letter he had
promised his employer to obtain.

For many minutes Guy Morrow and Emily forgot all else but the
new-found happiness of the love they had just confessed for each
other. Morrow had even forgotten that most-important letter which,
after many misgivings, he had solemnly promised his employer to
obtain from Emily. It was a phrase which fell from her own lips that
recalled him to the stern reality of the situation.

"My father!" she exclaimed, starting from Morrow's arms in sudden
confusion. "What do you suppose Father will say?"

"We will tell him when he returns." Morrow spoke with reassuring
confidence, but a swift feeling of apprehension came over him. What
indeed would Jimmy Brunell say? The thought of lying to Emily's father
was repugnant beyond expression, and yet what account could he give of
himself, of his profession and earlier career? What credentials, what
proof of his integrity and clean, honest life could he present to the
man whose