d be impossible for me to meet you
in that way. I hardly think you know or realize what my feelings to
you are. I can only meet you to tell you again and again that I love
you. You are so cold yourself that you cannot understand my--my--my
impetuosity, if you choose to call it so."

"In three or four months, Mr. Bertram, you will be laughing at
your own impetuosity--when I perhaps shall be grieving over my own
coldness." These last words she said with a smile in which there was
much archness, and perhaps also a little encouragement.

"You will tell me at any rate that I may hope?"

"No; certainly not. You will hope enough for anything you really
desire without my telling you. But I will not joke, as I believe that
you are serious."

"Oh, you believe so, do you?"

"Yes; I suppose I must believe so. Your declaration the other day
took me very much by surprise. I had no conception that you had any
feelings towards me of that sort. I certainly had entertained none
such towards you. Love with me cannot be the birth of a moment. I
cannot say that I will love merely because I am asked. You would not
wish me to be false even in your own favour. We will part now, Mr.
Bertram; and being apart we shall better learn to know, each of us,
how we value the other. On my part I can truly say that I hope we
shall meet again--at any rate, as friends." And then she held out her
hand to him.

"Is this to be our farewell?" said he, without at once taking it.

"It shall be if you so please. We shall meet again only at the public
table."

"And you will not tell me that I may hope?"

"I will tell you nothing further, Mr. Bertram. You will shake hands
with me as with a friend, will you not?"

He then took her hand, and, holding it in his own, gazed for a moment
into her face. She bore the weight of his eyes with unabashed front.
She showed neither anger nor pleasure; neither disdain nor pride; the
same sweet smile was still upon her face, somewhat playful, somewhat
hopeful, but capable of no definite construction either for making or
marring a man's comfort.

"Caroline!" he said at last.

"Good-bye, Mr. Bertram. I thoroughly hope you may enjoy your
journey."

"Caroline!"

She essayed to withdraw her hand from his. Feeling this, he raised it
to his lips and kissed it, and then left the room. As he closed the
door the same smile was on her face.

I hope it will be admitted that Miss Waddington had played her part
with skill,