Luxury? This little room? And there you sit sewing and knitting all
day! And I'll be bound you don't eat enough to keep a sparrow!'

There was silence. She was saying to herself--'Shall I ever be able to
go?--to break with them all?' The thought, the image, of George flashed
again through her mind. But why was it so much fainter, so much less
distinct than it had been an hour ago? Yet she seemed to turn to him, to
beg him piteously to protect her from something vague and undefined.

Suddenly a low voice spoke--

'Nelly!--don't go!'

She looked up--startled--her childish eyes full of tears.

He held out his hand, and she could not help it, she yielded her own.

Farrell's look was full of energy, of determination. He drew nearer to
her, still holding her hand. But he spoke with perfect self-control.

'Nelly, I won't deceive you! I love you! You are everything to me. It
seems as if I had never been happy--never known what happiness could
possibly mean till I knew you. To come here every week--to see you like
this for these few hours--it changes everything--it sweetens
everything--because you are in my heart--because I have the hope--that
some day----'

She withdrew her hand and covered her face.

'Oh, it's my fault--my fault!' she said, incoherently--'how could
I?--how _could_ I?'

There was silence again. He opened his lips to speak once or twice, but
no words came. One expression succeeded another on his face; his eyes
sparkled. At last he said--'How could you help it? You could not prevent
my loving you.'

'Yes, I could--I ought----,' she said, vehemently. 'Only I was a fool--I
never realised. That's so like me. I won't face things. And yet'--she
looked at him miserably--'I did beg you to let me live my own
life--didn't I?--not to spoil me--not--not to be so kind to me.'

He smiled.

'Yes. But then you see--you were you!'

She sprang up, looking down upon him, as he sat by the fire. 'That's
just it. If I were another person! But no!--no! I can't be your friend.
I'm not old enough--or clever enough. And I can't ever be anything
else.'

'Why?' He asked it very quietly, his eyes raised to hers. He could see
the quick beat of her breath under her black dress.

'Because I'm not my own. I'm not free--you know I'm not. I'm not free
legally--and I'm not free in heart. Oh, if George were to come in at
that door!'--she threw back her head with a passionate gesture--'there
would be nobody else in the world for