in a great tearless sob--he loved her so dearly, and
there was so much at stake. She looked at him with infinite pity in her
dark eyes. He had said all that he could think of; he had wooed her as
eloquently as he was able; he had done his best, and now he waited for
some word from her.

There were tenderness, pity, and surprise in her musical voice as she
spoke to him.

"I am so sorry, Captain Langton. I never thought you loved me so well. I
never dreamed that you had placed all your heart in your love."

"I have," he affirmed. "I have been reckless; I have thrown heart, love,
manhood, life, all at your feet together. If you trample ruthlessly on
them, Pauline, you will drive me to desperation and despair."

"I do not trample on them," she said, gently; "I would not wrong you so.
I take them up in my hands and restore them to you, thanking you for the
gift."

"What do you mean, Pauline?" he asked, while the flush died from his
face.

"I mean," she replied, softly, "that I thank you for the gift you have
offered me, but that I cannot accept it. I cannot be your wife, for I do
not love you."

He stood for some minutes dazed by the heavy blow; he had taken hope
from her gentle manner, and the disappointment was almost greater than
he could bear.

"It gives me as much pain to say this," she continued, "as it gives you
to hear it; pray believe that."

"I cannot bear it!" he cried. "I will not bear it! I will not believe
it! It is my life I ask from you, Pauline--my life! You cannot send me
from you to die in despair!"

His anguish was real, not feigned. Love, life, liberty, all were at
stake. He knelt at her feet; he covered her white, jeweled hands with
kisses and with hot, passionate tears. Her keen womanly instinct told
her there was no feigning in the deep, broken sob that rose to his lips.

"It is my life!" he repeated. "If you send me from you, Pauline, I shall
be a desperate, wicked man."

"You should not be so," she remarked, gently; "a great love, even if it
be unfortunate, should ennoble a man, not make him wicked."

"Pauline," he entreated, "you must unsay those words. Think that you
might learn to love me in time. I will be patient--I will wait long
years for you--I will do anything to win you; only give me some hope
that in time to come you will be mine."

"I cannot," she said; "it would be so false. I could never love you,
Captain Langton."

He raised his face to hers.

"Will you tell me