convulsively.

Then she said quietly, "Sometimes I have thought, Esterbrook, that it
might be better--if we were never married at all."

Esterbrook turned a startled face upon her.

"Not married at all! Marian, what do you mean?"

"Just what I say. I do not think we are as well suited to each other
after all as we have fancied. We have loved each other as brother and
sister might--that is all. I think it will be best to be brother and
sister forever--nothing more."

Esterbrook sprang to his feet.

"Marian, do you know what you are saying? You surely cannot have
heard--no one could have told you--"

"I have heard nothing," she interrupted hurriedly. "No one has told me
anything. I have only said what I have been thinking of late. I am
sure we have made a mistake. It is not too late to remedy it. You will
not refuse my request, Esterbrook? You will set me free?"

"Good heavens, Marian!" he said hoarsely. "I cannot realize that you
are in earnest. Have you ceased to care for me?" The rigidly locked
hands were clasped a little tighter.

"No--I shall always care for you as my friend if you will let me. But
I know we could not make each other happy--the time for that has gone
by. I would never be satisfied, nor would you. Esterbrook, will you
release me from a promise which has become an irksome fetter?"

He looked down on her upturned face mistily. A great joy was surging
up in his heart--yet it was mingled with great regret.

He knew--none better--what was passing out of his life, what he was
losing when he lost that pure, womanly nature.

"If you really mean this, Marian," he said slowly, "if you really have
come to feel that your truest love is not and never can be mine--that
I cannot make you happy--then there is nothing for me to do but to
grant your request. You are free."

"Thank you, dear," she said gently, as she stood up.

She slipped his ring from her finger and held it out to him. He took
it mechanically. He still felt dazed and unreal.

Marian held out her hand.

"Good-night, Esterbrook," she said, a little wearily. "I feel tired. I
am glad you see it all in the same light as I do."

"Marian," he said earnestly, clasping the outstretched hand, "are you
sure that you will be happy--are you sure that you are doing a wise
thing?"

"Quite sure," she answered, with a faint smile. "I am not acting
rashly. I have thought it all over carefully. Things are much better
so, dear. We will always be fr