up at him swiftly, keenly. In his grave face there was that
which made her break out with an open quivering emotion she had not
shown even to the doctor's loving heart. "It's a weight on my very
soul--that there's nothing for me to look forward to--nothing, nothing
that's worth growing up to do. I haven't been taught anything--but I
know I want to be something better than--perhaps I can't be--but I want
to try! I want to try! That's not much to ask--just a chance to try--But
I don't even know how to get that. I don't even dare to speak
of--of--such things. People laugh and say it's Sunday-schooley fancies
that'll disappear, that I'll forget as I get into living. But I don't
want to forget. I'm afraid I shall. I want to keep trying. I don't
know--"

They did not slacken their swift advance as they talked. They looked at
each other seriously in the starlight.

Rankin had given an indrawn exclamation as she finished, and after an
instant's pause he said, with a deep emotion, "Oh, perhaps--at least we
both want to try--_Be Ariadne for me!_ Help me to find the clue to
what's wrong in our lives, and perhaps--" He looked down at her, shaken,
drawing quick breaths. She answered his gaze silently, her face as
shining white as his.

He went on: "You shall decide what Ariadne may be or may come to be--I
will take whatever you choose to give--and bless you!"

She had a gesture of humility. "_I_ haven't anything to give."

His accent was memorable as he cried, "You have yourself--you--you! But
you are too gentle! It is hard for you--it will be too hard for you to
do what you feel should be done. I could perhaps do the things if you
would tell me--help you not to forget--not to let life make you forget
what is worth doing and learning!"

She put back a mesh of her wind-blown hair to look at him intently, and
to say again in wonder, "I'm not anything. What can you think I--what
can you hope--"

They were standing now on the walk before her father's house. "I can
hope--" his voice shook, "I can hope that you may make me into a man
worthy to help you to be the best that's in you."

Lydia put out her hand impulsively. It did not tremble. She looked at
him with radiant, steady eyes. He raised the slim, gloved fingers to his
lips. "Whether to leave you, or to try to--Oh, I would give my life to
know how best to serve you," he said huskily. He turned away, the sound
of his steps ringing loud in the silent street.

Lydia went slow