phrase kept ringing in
his ears. Hitherto his new-found happiness had filled his life, leaving
no room for thought. But the old Dame's words had sown the seed of
reflection.

Was Christina fooling him? The thought was impossible. Never once had
she pleaded for herself, never once for Jan. The evil thought was the
creature of Dame Toelast's evil mind. Christina loved him. Her face
brightened at his coming. The fear of him had gone out of her; a pretty
tyranny had replaced it. But was it the love that he sought? Jan's soul
in old Nick's body was young and ardent. It desired Christina not as a
daughter, but as a wife. Could it win her in spite of old Nick's body?
The soul of Jan was an impatient soul. Better to know than to doubt.

"Do not light the candles; let us talk a little by the light of the fire
only," said Nicholas. And Christina, smiling, drew her chair towards the
blaze. But Nicholas sat in the shadow.

"You grow more beautiful every day, Christina," said Nicholas-"sweeter
and more womanly. He will be a happy man who calls you wife."

The smile passed from Christina's face. "I shall never marry," she
answered. "Never is a long word, little one."

"A true woman does not marry the man she does not love."

"But may she not marry the man she does?" smiled Nicholas.

"Sometimes she may not," Christina explained.

"And when is that?"

Christina's face was turned away. "When he has ceased to love her."

The soul in old Nick's body leapt with joy. "He is not worthy of you,
Christina. His new fortune has changed him. Is it not so? He thinks only
of money. It is as though the soul of a miser had entered into him.
He would marry even Dame Toelast for the sake of her gold-bags and her
broad lands and her many mills, if only she would have him. Cannot you
forget him?"

"I shall never forget him. I shall never love another man. I try to hide
it; and often I am content to find there is so much in the world that
I can do. But my heart is breaking." She rose and, kneeling beside him,
clasped her hands around him. "I am glad you have let me tell you," she
said. "But for you I could not have borne it. You are so good to me."

For answer he stroked with his withered hand the golden hair that fell
disordered about his withered knees. She raised her eyes to him; they
were filled with tears, but smiling.

"I cannot understand," she said. "I think sometimes that you and he must
have changed souls. He is hard and mean and