ou, but I am
conceited enough to believe that I have taken no harm from my friendship
with Ralph Percival, and that he has reaped some little good from mine.
While that state of thing continues, I shall certainly refuse to give
him up--even to please you!"

There was silence for several moments, then Dan said slowly--

"If I agreed with your conclusions, I should not try to persuade you,
Darsie; but I do not, and my opportunities of judging are better than
yours."

"You are unfair, Dan. It is a pity to allow yourself to be so
prejudiced that you can't give a fair judgment. I should have imagined
that even you would be forced to admit that Ralph had done better this
term."

Dan did not speak. He turned his head and looked Darsie full in the
eyes, and there was in his look a puzzled, questioning air, which she
found it difficult to understand. When he spoke again, it was not to
reply in any direct way to her accusation, but to ask a question on his
own account.

"Darsie, do you mind telling me--is your position entirely
disinterested? Do you look upon the fellow merely as a man to be
helped, or do you care for him for his own personal sake?"

Darsie deliberated. The firelight played on her downcast face, on the
long white throat rising from the low collar of her white blouse, on the
little hands clenched round the steel poker. Before her mind's eye
arose the memory of handsome, melancholy eyes; imagination conjured back
the sound of impassioned appeals. Her expression softened, her voice
took a deeper note.

"He needs me, Dan!"

That was her answer. Dan nodded in silence, accepting it as sufficient.
He rose from his chair, and paced up and down the room, hands thrust
deep into his trouser pockets, head held back with the characteristic
forward tilt of the chin. Darsie, watching him, thought involuntarily
of a caged animal striving restlessly against the bars. Her heart gave
a little throb of relief when he spoke again in his own natural voice.

"All right, Darsie. Good luck to your efforts! I appreciate your
intentions, and am only sorry that I can't agree. According to my
belief no one can help a man who refuses to help himself. We've got to
fight our own battles, and to bear our own burdens! If some one steps
forward and offers to undertake for us, we may imagine for a time that
we are set free, but it's a mistake! Sooner or later the time comes
when we're bound to fight it out alone, and it