lin and bowed as they went by. Rollin was watching Rachel
closely.

"I wish I was Jasper Chase. Maybe I would stand some chance then,"
he said moodily.

Rachel colored in spite of herself. She did not say anything and
quickened her pace a little. Rollin seemed determined to say
something, and Rachel seemed helpless to prevent him. After all, she
thought, he might as well know the truth one time as another.

"You know well enough, Rachel, how I feel toward you. Isn't there
any hope? I could make you happy. I've loved you a good many
years--"

"Why, how old do you think I am?" broke in Rachel with a nervous
laugh. She was shaken out of her usual poise of manner.

"You know what I mean," went on Rollin doggedly. "And you have no
right to laugh at me just because I want you to marry me."

"I'm not! But it is useless for you to speak, Rollin," said Rachel
after a little hesitation, and then using his name in such a frank,
simple way that he could attach no meaning to it beyond the
familiarity of the old family acquaintance. "It is impossible." She
was still a little agitated by the fact of receiving a proposal of
marriage on the avenue. But the noise on the street and sidewalk
made the conversation as private as if they were in the house.

"Would that is--do you think--if you gave me time I would."

"No!" said Rachel. She spoke firmly; perhaps, she thought afterward,
although she did not mean to, she spoke harshly.

They walked on for some time without a word. They were nearing
Rachel's home and she was anxious to end the scene.

As they turned off the avenue into one of the quieter streets Rollin
spoke suddenly and with more manliness than he had yet shown. There
was a distinct note of dignity in his voice that was new to Rachel.

"Miss Winslow, I ask you to be my wife. Is there any hope for me
that you will ever consent?"

"None in the least." Rachel spoke decidedly.

"Will you tell me why?" He asked the question as if he had a right
to a truthful answer.

"Because I do not feel toward you as a woman ought to feel toward
the man she marries."

"In other words, you do not love me?"

"I do not and I cannot."

"Why?" That was another question, and Rachel was a little surprised
that he should ask it.

"Because--" she hesitated for fear she might say too much in an
attempt to speak the exact truth.

"Tell me just why. You can't hurt me more than you have already."

"Well, I do not and I cannot love yo