ef thing is that I should be
honest with you. It's the only return I can make for all you've done for
me."

Mary bent her head a little lower, and heavy tears rolled down her
cheeks.

"Oh, Mary, don't cry!" said James, his voice breaking; and he stepped
forward, with outstretched arms, as though to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she said; "I didn't mean to."

She took out her handkerchief and dried her eyes, trying to smile. Her
courageous self-command was like a stab in Jamie's heart.

"I am an absolute cad!" he said, hoarsely.

Mary made no gesture; she sat perfectly still, rigid, not seeking to
hide her emotion, but merely to master it. One could see the effort she
made.

"I'm awfully sorry, Mary! Please forgive me--I don't ask you to release
me. All I want to do is to explain exactly what I feel, and then leave
you to decide."

"Are you--are you in love with anyone else?"

"No!"

The smile of Mrs. Wallace flashed scornfully across his mind, but he set
his teeth. He hated and despised her; he would not love her.

"Is there anything in me that you don't like which I might be able to
correct?"

Her humility was more than he could bear.

"No, no, no!" he cried. "I can never make you understand. You must think
me simply brutal. You have all that a man could wish for. I know how
kind you are, and how good you are. I think you have every quality which
a good woman should have. I respect you entirely; I can never help
feeling for you the most intense gratitude and affection."

In his own ears the words he spoke rang hollow, awkward, even
impertinent. He could say nothing which did not seem hideously
supercilious; and yet he wanted to abase himself! He knew that Mary's
humiliation must be very, very bitter.

"I'm afraid that I am distressing you frightfully, and I don't see how I
can make things easier."

"Oh, I knew you didn't love me! I felt it. D'you think I could talk to
you for five minutes without seeing the constraint in your manner? They
told me I was foolish and fanciful, but I knew better."

"I must have caused you very great unhappiness?"

Mary did not answer, and James looked at her with pity and remorse. At
last he broke out passionately:

"I can't command my love! It's not a thing I have at my beck and call.
If it were, do you think I should give you this pain? Love is outside
all calculation. You think love can be tamed, and led about on a chain
like a dog. You think it's a gentle sentime