rhaps to avoid the avowal which
she felt might be coming, she took a tangent:

"Will your new wisdom carry you so far as to write a letter for me, one
with your signature at the bottom?"

"It will," his grace answered, without a second's hesitation seating
himself at the writing-table.

"It is for you to dictate it," he went on, with the paper spread before
him, pen in hand.

"My dear Mr. Carmichael," Nancy began.

His grace started to his feet--this was far from anything for which he
was prepared. So for a space they regarded each other steadily, and
then I saw Nancy put her soft little hand over the one of the duke's
which rested on the table; and his smile and movement of the shoulders,
as though he surrendered everything at her touch, was one of the
bravest bits of love-making I have ever seen.

He seated himself again, and Nancy, standing at his side, went on:

"I am writing to you to-night to ask your pardon for the entirely
unworthy course which I have pursued toward you during the past six
weeks."

Again the duke paused, and I could see his jaw set as he regarded the
words, which were bitter enough to his palate.

"The matters which led to the quarrel between us were of my own
breeding, and I wish to apologize to you for them. Sign it," said
Nancy.

"I am willing," the duke answered, with an odd smile; "but, little
girl, a man doesn't insult another man and then crawl out of the
consequences of his act by letter. Have I your permission to effect
this thing in a bit more masculine way? I promise a retraction of my
conduct, and that I shall be humble enough----"

"And there will be no duel?"

"There will be no duel," Borthwicke answered, and, subtle creature that
he was, he saw by the look in Nancy's face how much his yielding had
gained for him with her, and seized the occasion.

"I have done this for you, as I might do any other thing for you which
you might ask me, for there's one thing I want more than my life
itself. Oh," he cried, and he reached out his arms toward her, "can you
love me, Nancy Stair? Do you think you can love me?"

There was a pause, during which I could hear the duke's deep breathing,
before she answered him.

"And that's just the thing I can't tell," she said, "for I don't know
myself. You know the understanding that I have with Danvers Carmichael.
I am fond of him, perhaps fonder of him than any other; but there is no
disguising the fact from myself that at times you a