urmured.

There was no answer.

"We should never be happy together," she began, slowly. "You've a will
like iron--I've felt it for three years. Mine is--I don't know what
mine is--but it's not used to being denied. We should quarrel over
everything, even when I knew, as I did to-day, that you were right.
I--don't know how to tell you--but--I----"

She hesitated. He made no answer, no plea, simply stood, breathing
deep but steadily, and steadily watching her.

"You're such a good friend," she went on, reluctantly, after a little.
She was drooping against the door of the box stall like a flower which
needs support, but he did not offer to help her. "Such a good friend I
don't want to lose you--but I know by the way you speak that I'm going
to lose you if--I----"

She raised her eyes little by little till they had reached his
shoulders, broad and firm and motionless.

"Good-by, Mr. Jarvis," she said, very low, and in a voice which
trembled a little. "But please don't mind very much. I'm not--worth
it. I----"

She lifted her eyes once more from his shoulder to his face, to find
the same look, intensified, meeting her with its steady fire. She
paled slowly, dropped her eyes and turned as if to go, when a great
breath, like a sob, shook her. She stood for an instant, faltering,
then turned again and took one uncertain step toward him.

"Oh--I can't--I can't----" she breathed. "You're the stronger--and
I--I--want you to be!"

With one quick stride he reached her. "Of course you do," he said, his
voice exultant in its joy.

Behind them brown Betty watched with dumb eyes, wondering, perhaps,
how so stormy a scene could be succeeded by such motionless calm. As
for her, this new, strange way of standing, always standing, too full
of pain to sleep, was a thing to be endured as best she might.

R. H.--A PORTRAIT

Not credulous, yet active in belief
That good is better than the worst is bad;
A generous courage mirrored in the glad
Challenging eyes, that gentle oft with grief
For honest woe--while lurking like a thief,
Peering around the corners, humor creeps,
Into the gravest matters pries and peeps,

Till grimmest face relaxes with relief;
A heart beloved of the wiser gods
Grown weary of solemnity prolonged--
That snatches scraps of gladness while Fate nods,
Varying life's prose with stories many-songed:
One who has faced the dark and naught denied--
Yet lives p