er couple had just
disappeared. "I said," she answered, slowly, "I thought it
wouldn't rain this, afternoon."

His wistful eyes absently swept the serene sky which had been
cloudless for several days. "No, I suppose not," he murmured.

"Richard," she said with a little sharpness, "will you please
listen to me for a moment?"

"Oh--what?" He was like a diver coming up out of deep water. "What
did you say?" He laughed apologetically. "Wasn't I listening? I
beg your pardon. What is it, Laura?"

"Why do you let Mr. Corliss take Cora away from you like that?"
she asked gravely.

"He doesn't," the young man returned with a rueful shake of the
head. "Don't you see? It's Cora that goes."

"Why do you let her, then?"

He sighed. "I don't seem to be able to keep up with Cora,
especially when she's punishing me. I couldn't do something she
asked me to, last night----"

"Invest with Mr. Corliss?" asked Laura quickly.

"Yes. It seemed to trouble her that I couldn't. She's convinced
it's a good thing: she thinks it would make a great fortune for
us----"

"`Us'?" repeated Laura gently. "You mean for you and her? When
you're----"

"When we're married. Yes," he said thoughtfully, "that's the way
she stated it. She wanted me to put in all I have----"

"Don't do it!" said Laura decidedly.

He glanced at her with sharp inquiry. "Do you mean you would
distrust Mr. Corliss?"

"I wasn't thinking of that: I don't know whether I'd trust him or
not--I think I wouldn't; there's something veiled about him, and I
don't believe he is an easy man to know. What I meant was that I
don't believe it would really be a good thing for you with Cora."

"It would please her, of course--thinking I deferred so much to
her judgment."

"Don't do it!" she said again, impulsively.

"I don't see how I can," he returned sorrowfully.

"It's my work for all the years since I got out of college, and if
I lost it I'd have to begin all over again. It would mean
postponing everything. Cora isn't a girl you can ask to share a
little salary, and if it were a question of years, perhaps--
perhaps Cora might not feel she could wait for me, you see."

He made this explanation with plaintive and boyish sincerity,
hesitatingly, and as if pleading a cause. And Laura, after a long
look at him, turned away, and in her eyes were actual tears of
compassion for the incredible simpleton.

"I see," she said. "Perhaps she might not."

"Of course," he went on,