g gaze which she immediately turned upon him.

"I don't quite believe that," she said slowly.

"You doubt my word?"

"Yes," said Cynthia, in a dry matter-of-fact way; "I doubt everybody's
word. Nobody tells the whole truth in this agreeable world. You forget
that I am not a baby--that I have knocked about a good deal and seen the
seamy side of life. Perhaps you would like me better if I had not? You
would like me to have lived in the country all my life, and to be gentle
and innocent and dull?"

"I could not like you better than as you are," he said, passing one arm
round her.

"That's right. You do love me?"

"Yes, Cynthia."

"That is not a very warm assurance. Do you feel so coldly towards me
this morning?"

"My dearest--no!"

"That's better. Dear Hubert---- may I call you Hubert?"--he answered with
a little pressure of his arm--"if you really care for me, I can say what
I was going to say; but, if you don't--if that was how you made a fool
of yourself by saying so when you did not mean it--then tell me, and I
shall know whether to speak or to hold my tongue."

She spoke forcibly, with a directness and simplicity which enchanted
Hubert in spite of himself. He assured her that he loved her from the
bottom of his heart, that she might speak freely, and that he would be
guided, if possible, by what she said--he knew that she was good and
wise and generous. And then he kissed her once more on the lips, and she
believed his words. She began to speak, blushing a little as she did so.

"I only want to understand. You are not married, Hubert?"

"My darling--no!"

"And you said last night that you were not engaged?"

"I am not engaged," he said more slowly.

"You have--some other engagement--entanglement--of which I do not know?"

"No, Cynthia."

"Then," she, said, facing him with a boldness which he thoroughly
admired, "why do you want to draw back from what you said to me last
night?"

Hubert looked more than serious--he looked unhappy.

"Draw back," he said slowly--"that is a hard expression!"

"It is a hard thing," she rejoined.

"Cynthia, if I had suspected--if you had ever given me any reason to
suppose--that you were willing to think of me as more than a friend, I
would not have spoken. I am not worthy of you; I can but drag you back
from a brilliant career; it is not fair to you."

The girl stood regarding him meditatively; there was neither fear nor
sign of yielding in her eyes.

"That d