mean that you really have any feeling for me?"

"I do mean it!"

Bellairs felt very uncomfortable. He scarcely knew what to do or say. He
fidgeted on his chair almost like a boy caught in a dishonest act.

"We had really better not talk about it," he said.

"Very well." Clarice reached out her hand for her pen and drew the
blotting-pad towards her.

"But Betty?" said Bellairs uneasily.

"You have not answered my question. I shall not answer yours." She
dipped her pen in the ink and prepared to go on with her letter.
Bellairs grew desperate.

"Look here," he said; "you must tell me the reason of this change in
Betty. Now I know you don't care for me, you don't really love me."

"No, I don't love you," she said quickly.

"Well, then, since you say that, I will answer your question. I tried to
win your heart because I wanted to win Betty's!"

"What do you mean?"

"That Betty is practically you--or was, your echo, in word, deed,
thought. Her mind, her heart, followed yours in everything. I loved her,
and I knew that if I made you like me very much she must follow you in
that feeling as in others. Since you don't love me, I can dare to tell
you this."

Clarice sat silent.

"Are you angry?" he asked.

"Go on," she said.

"That's all." Again a silence.

"It was your fault in a way," Bellairs said awkwardly. "You made Betty
your other self. Why did you not let her alone?"

"Can a strong nature help impressing itself on others?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm no psychologist. But--you must let Betty alone
now," he said.

"Suppose I can't. Suppose this sympathy between us has got beyond my
control?"

"I shall release Betty from this bondage to you," Bellairs said, "my
love will--"

"You! Your love!" Clarice said. And she burst into a laugh.

Bellairs suddenly leaned forward across the table.

"I believe you hate me," he exclaimed.

She, on her part, leaned forward till her face was near his.

"You're right," she whispered; "I do hate you. Now you know what's the
matter with Betty."

For a moment Bellairs did not understand.

"Now--I know--" he repeated. "I don't--Ah!" Comprehension flashed upon
him.

"You devil," he said--"you she-devil! Curse--curse you!" Clarice laughed
again. Bellairs sprang up.

"No, no, I won't believe it," he cried. "I can't. The thing's
impossible."

"Is it? The pendulum of my heart has swung back from love to hate.
Betty's is following."

"No, no!"

"Wait, and you w