little girl; but I've known.
We've been engaged; but that's about all there's been to it. Don't
think I make little of that; you know what I mean. You've been mine;
but--but you haven't let me realize it, you see. And I've been
patient, for I knew the reason. It was Ben poisoning your mind against
me."

"No! No, Henry!"

"You've denied it; I've recognized that you've denied it, not only to
me and to your people but to yourself. I, of course, knew, as I know
that I am here with your hand in mine, and as we will stand before the
altar together, that he had no cause to speak against me. I've waited,
Connie, to give him a chance to say to you what he had to say; I wanted
you to hear it before making you wholly mine. But now there's no need
to wait any longer, you and I. Ben's gone, never to come back. I was
sure of that by what you wrote me, so this time when I started to you I
brought with me--this."

He felt in his pocket and brought out a ring of plain gold; he held it
before her so that she could see within it her own initials and his and
a blank left for the date. Her gaze went from it for an instant to the
box where he had put back the other ring--Alan's mother's. Feeling for
her long ago gazing thus, as she must have, at that ring, held her for
a moment. Was it because of that that Constance found herself cold now?

"You mean you want me to marry you--at once, Henry?"

He drew her to him powerfully; she felt him warm, almost rough with
passions. Since that day when, in Alan Conrad's presence, he had
grasped and kissed her, she had not let him "realize" their engagement,
as he had put it.

"Why not?" he turned her face up to his now. "Your mother's here; your
father will follow soon; or, if you will, we'll run away--Constance!
You've kept me off so long! You don't believe there's anything against
me, dear? Do you? Do you?

"No; no! Of course not!"

"Then we're going to be married.... We're going to be married, aren't
we? Aren't we, Constance?"

"Yes; yes, of course."

"Right away, we'll have it then; up here; now!"

"No; not now, Henry. Not up here!"

"Not here? Why not?"

She could give no answer. He held her and commanded her again; only
when he frightened her, he ceased.

"Why _must_ it be at once, Henry? I don't understand!"

"It's not must, dear," he denied. "It's just that I want you so!"

When would it be, he demanded then; before spring, she promised at
last. Bu