n a silence. Montague was dumb.

"Why don't you say something?" she panted, at last; and he caught the
note of anguish in her voice. Then he turned and stared at her, and saw
her tightly clenched hands, and the quivering of her lips.

He was shocked quite beyond speech. And he saw her bosom heaving
quickly, and saw the tears start into her eyes. Suddenly she sank down,
and covered her face with her hands and broke into frantic sobbing.

"Mrs. Winnie!" he cried; and started to his feet.

Her outburst continued. He saw that she was shuddering violently. "Then
you don't love me!" she wailed.

He stood trembling and utterly bewildered. "I'm so sorry!" he
whispered. "Oh, Mrs. Winnie--I had no idea--"

"I know it! I know it!" she cried. "It's my fault! I was a fool! I knew
it all the time. But I hoped--I thought you might, if you knew--"

And then again her tears choked her; she was convulsed with pain and
grief.

Montague stood watching her, helpless with distress. She caught hold of
the arm of the chair, convulsively, and he put his hand upon hers.

"Mrs. Winnie--" he began.

But she jerked her hand away and hid it. "No, no!" she cried, in
terror. "Don't touch me!"

And suddenly she looked up at him, stretching out her arms. "Don't you
understand that I love you?" she exclaimed. "You despise me for it, I
know--but I can't help it. I will tell you, even so! It's the only
satisfaction I can have. I have always loved you! And I thought--I
thought it was only that you didn't understand. I was ready to brave
all the world--I didn't care who knew it, or what anybody said. I
thought we could be happy--I thought I could be free at last. Oh,
you've no idea how unhappy I am--and how lonely--and how I longed to
escape! And I believed that you--that you might--"

And then the tears gushed into Mrs. Winnie's eyes again, and her voice
became the voice of a little child.

"Don't you think that you might come to love me?" she wailed.

Her voice shook Montague, so that he trembled to the depths of him. But
his face only became the more grave.

"You despise me because I told you!" she exclaimed.

"No, no, Mrs. Winnie," he said. "I could not possibly do that--"

"Then--then why--" she whispered.--"Would it be so hard to love me?"

"It would be very easy," he said, "but I dare not let myself."

She looked at him piteously. "You are so cold--so merciless!" she cried.

He answered nothing, and she sat trembling. "Have you