e moral
nature re-arising, stronger than ever, claiming its own. She had
promised and failed! What she did was not well for him.

"Tell me," he urged, with a lover's eagerness. "You'll have to, some
time, you know."

"You promised not to come. You promised definitely," said Winifred,
disengaging herself from him.

"Could I help coming?" cried he. "I was in the greatest bewilderment and
misery!"

"So you will always come, even if you promise not to?"

"But I won't promise not to! Where is the need now? You love me, I love
you!"

Winifred turned away from him, went to the window and looked out, seeing
nothing, for the eyes of the soul were busy. Her lips were now firmly
set, and during the minute that she stood there a rapid train of thought
and purpose passed through her mind. She had promised to give him up,
and she would go through with it. It was for him--and it was sweet,
though bitter, to be a martyr. But she recognized clearly that so long
as he knew where to find her the thing could never be done. She made up
her mind to be gone from those lodgings by that hour the next day, and
to be buried from him in some other part of the great city. She would
never in that case be able to ask him for help to keep going, without
giving her address, but in a few days she would have work at the new
bookbinder's. This well settled in her mind, she turned inward to him,
saying:

"Miss Goodman will soon bring up tea. Come, let us be happy to-day.
You want to know if I love you? Well, the answer is yes, yes; so
now you know, and can never doubt. I want you to stay a long time
this afternoon, and I invite you to be my dear, dear guest on one
condition--that you don't ask me why I told you that awful fib the
day before yesterday, for I don't mean to tell you!"

Of course Carshaw took her again in his arms, and, without breaking her
conditions, stayed with her till nearly six. She was sedately gay all
the time, but, on kissing him good-by, she wept quietly, and as quietly
she said to her landlady when he was gone:

"Miss Goodman, I am going away to-morrow--for always, I'm afraid."

Soon after this six o'clock struck. At ten minutes past the hour Miss
Goodman brought up two letters.

Without looking at the handwriting on the envelopes, Winifred tore open
one, laying the other on a writing-desk, this latter being from the
agent in answer to the one she had written. She had told him that she
did not mean to keep the appoint