to put things before you as I see them." With
her elbows on her knee, and her chin cupped in the palms of her hand,
she was staring across the stretch of tumbled, grass-grown hillocks.

"We know one another too well not to be perfectly frank. How much of
last night was just--what shall I say--nervous tension? Supposing some
other girl had been in my place?"

Impetuously he started to speak, but once again the words died away on
his lips as he saw the half-tender, half-humorous look in her eyes.

"Dear," she went on after a moment. "I don't want to hurt you. I know
you think you're in love with me to-day; but will you to-morrow? You
see, Derek, this war has given a different value to things. . . .
Whether one likes it or not, it's made one more serious. It hasn't
destroyed our capacity for pleasure, but it's altered the things we
take pleasure in. My idea of a good time, after it's over, will never
be the same as it was before."

Vane nodded his head thoughtfully. "I'm not certain, dear, that that's
anything to worry about."

"Of course it isn't--I know that. But don't you see, Derek, where that
leads us to? One can't afford to fool with things once they have
become serious. . . . And to kiss a man, as I kissed you last night,
seems to mean very much more to me than it did once upon a time.
That's why I want to make sure. . . ." She hesitated, and then,
seeming to make up her mind, she turned and faced him. "I would find
it easier now to live with a man I really loved--if that were the only
way--than to be kissed by two or three at a dance whom I didn't care
about. Do you understand?"

"My dear, I understand perfectly," answered Vane. "The one is big--the
other is petty. And when we live through an age of big things we grow
ourselves."

"I gave you that as a sort of example of what I feel, Derek," Margaret
continued after a time. "I don't suppose there is anything novel in
it, but I want you so frightfully to understand what I am going to say.
You have asked me to marry you--to take the biggest step which any
woman can take. I tell you quite frankly that I want to say 'Yes.' I
think all along that I've loved you, though I've flirted with other
men. . . . I was a fool five years ago. . . ."

He looked at her quickly. "Tell me; I want to know."

"I found out about that girl you were keeping."

Vane started slightly. "Good Lord! But how?"

"Does it matter, old man?" Margaret turned to h