for the sake of his prospects. She realized whither she was trending,
but she felt powerless to resist her fate.

They paused a short distance beyond the Black Bull, where the quay
jutted out a little like a pier. It was guarded by a railing, and Madge
leaned on this and looked down at the black, incoming tide lapping below
her. No other person was in sight, and the white mist seemed suddenly to
close around the couple. The paddles of a receding steamer churned and
splashed monotonously. From Kew Bridge floated a faint murmur of
rumbling traffic. It was four o'clock, and the sun was hidden.

"You are shivering," said Nevill.

"It is very cold. Will you take me home, please?"

As she spoke, the girl turned toward him, and he moved impulsively
nearer.

"I will take you home," he said; "but first I want to ask you a
question--you _must_ hear me. Madge, are you utterly heartless? Twice,
when I told you of my love, you rejected it. But I persevered--I did not
lose hope. And now I ask you again, for the third time, will you be my
wife? Do I not deserve my reward?"

The girl did not answer. Her eyes were downcast, and one little foot
tapped the flagstone nervously.

"I love you with all my heart, Madge," he went on, with deep and sincere
passion in his voice. "You cannot doubt that, whatever you may think of
me. You are the best and sweetest of women--the only one in the world
for me. I will make your life happy. You shall want for nothing."

"Mr. Nevill, you know that I do not love you."

"But you will learn to in time."

"I fear not. No, I am sure of it."

"I will take the risk. I will hope that love will come."

"And you would marry me, knowing that I do not care for you in that way?"

"Yes, gladly. I cannot live without you. Say yes, Madge, and make me the
happiest of men."

"I suppose I must," she replied. She did not look him in the face. "My
father wishes it, and has urged me to consent. It will please him."

"Then you will be my wife, Madge?"

"Some day, if you still desire it."

"I will never change," he said, fervently.

It was a strange, ill-omened promise of marriage, and a bitter
realization of how little it meant was suddenly borne home to Nevill.
He touched the girl's hand--more he dared not do, though he longed to
take her in his arms and kiss her red lips. The coldness of her manner
repelled him. They turned and walked slowly along the river, while the
shadows deepened around them.