why? You do not reject me because I am poor--you are
too noble to care for wealth. It is not because I am a soldier, with
nothing to offer you but a loving heart. It is not for these things. Why
do you reject me, Pauline?"

"No, you are right; it is not for any of those reasons; they would never
prevent my being your wife if I loved you."

"Then why can you not love me?" he persisted.

"For many reasons. You are not at all the style of man I could love.
How can you doubt me? Here you are wooing me, asking me to be your wife,
offering me your love, and my hand does not tremble, my heart does not
beat; your words give me no pleasure, only pain; I am conscious of
nothing but a wish to end the interview. This is not love, is it,
Captain Langton?"

"But in time," he pleaded--"could you not learn to care for me in time?"

"No, I am quite sure. You must not think I speak to pain you, but indeed
you are the last man living with whom I could fall in love, or whom I
could marry. If you were, as you say, a king, and came to me with a
crown to offer, it would make no difference. It is better, as I am sure
you will agree, to speak plainly."

Even in the moonlight she saw how white his face had grown, and what a
sudden shadow of despair had come into his eyes. He stood silent for
some minutes.

"You have unmanned me," he said, slowly, "but, Pauline, there is
something else for you to hear. You must listen to me for your own
sake," he added; and then Aubrey Langton's face flushed, his lips grew
dry and hot, his breath came in short quick gasps--he had played a manly
part, but now he felt that what he had to say would sound like a threat.

He did not know how to begin, and she was looking at him with those
dark, calm eyes of hers, with that new light of pity on her face.

"Pauline," he said, hoarsely, "Sir Oswald wishes for this marriage. Oh,
spare me--love me--be mine, because of the great love I bear you!"

"I cannot," she returned; "in my eyes it is a crime to marry without
love. What you have to say of Sir Oswald say quickly."

"But you will hate me for it," he said.

"No, I will not be so unjust as to blame you for Sir Oswald's fault."

"He wishes us to marry; he is not only willing, but it would give him
more pleasure than anything else on earth; and he says--do not blame me,
Pauline--that if you consent he will make you mistress of Darrell Court
and all his rich revenues."

She laughed--the pity died from her fac