He bent forward, took both her cold hands, and drew her to her feet.

For an instant he chafed her hands almost unconsciously. Then they walked on a little, Caroline as in a dream.

Suddenly he paused, and catching her hands again more closely, faced her. There were tears in her eyes just ready to run down her cheeks.

"If you are well, why are you crying?" he asked abruptly. Then tenderly, "Come, Caroline, be honest with me. Something is wrong, and I must know what that something is. Don't you realize that I would give my life itself to be sure that you were happy? Have you the least idea what you are to me--how much I love you?"

She shook her head; and then she looked up, and her lips smiled for an instant.

"How should I know these things? You have never told them to me."

"Surely yes," he said.

"Surely no," she answered. "That day you spoke to me just after you came back from America, you simply dictated to me the fact that you found you required a wife, and that you considered me a suitable person for the situation; and your letter at Christmas was just the same thing."

"I knew I had done some clumsy thing," he said remorsefully. "But dearest, sweetest heart, you must have known that I love you!"

He unloosened her hands as he spoke, meaning to gather her into his arms, but she placed those two little hands in protecting fashion against his heart.

"No. Wait," she said. "It can't be true. Remember what she was to you.

If you are the man I imagine you to be, then you are not one to easily forget. You--you can't love me if you loved her."

He smiled, but he answered her gravely.

"Since you have apparently studied me and my nature so well, the whole situation should be clear to you. Other people might doubt, but not you, Caroline. You were so closely mingled in with that episode, and you must have realized that when she took herself out of my life everything appertaining to her faded absolutely into the background.

The way had been prepared for this so thoroughly. You know that evening I came down here that I was clinging to a last hope, even though I knew how poor it was. I confess," he said, with a faint smile, "that had we separated differently, some sentiment might have lingered. It was the way she did this that swept my heart clean. And yet," he added, "I am wrong to deny all sentiment. I am her friend--I am glad to be her friend--and I shall never cease trying to help her to the happiness she craves for; but I shall never succeed. No one can help her. It is her destiny to be a disappointment to herself, and to all who have her interest at heart."

Caroline shivered a little. Her hands had dropped. They were standing apart now.

"And still she holds one. There is a sort of spell about her," she said, in a low voice--"you must recognize that. I, too, have suffered through her, and yet----" Then she bit her lip, flushed crimson, and said pa.s.sionately, "I could never share! Don't think I am only sensible, and practical, and quiet ... I ... I know myself better, I am capable of horrid feelings, and my temper can be quite savage.... I don't want to fill a gap.... I want all for myself. Why, even when I realize what she was to you, I feel as if I could suffocate...."

She was turning away, but he caught her by the shoulder and wheeled her round.

"Do you know what that means?" he said, in a curious voice; "that means that you love me. And do you suppose I am going to let you slip out of my life now that I know this? Caroline, you _shall_ not deny me my right! I have stood by all these months I even came here to-day with the intention of saying nothing more to you on this subject, because I said to myself, 'I have no right to force myself upon her; if she cared a toss of a b.u.t.ton about me she would not play with me;' but the temptation to speak was too strong, and now that you have confessed that I am indeed so much to you ... you will never get rid of me!"

He was holding her so tightly that he almost hurt her.

The colour waned in her face, and came back with a rush as she tried to look at him and could not meet his eyes.

"When will you marry me?" he asked.

She gasped.

"Oh, please," she said, "I don't think I said anything to ... to ...

but if ... suppose that I should care for you a little, that does not mean that ..." she broke off.... "Really, I cannot marry you," she said then, with a note of desperation in her voice.

Haverford laughed.

"Why? Give me one good reason, and I will let you go."

She had to laugh too, but she would not yield easily.

She enumerated many reasons.

"The children need me ... it is so soon. I have ever so many things I want to do this year...." Then finally and a little weakly, "I don't want to marry at all."

Rupert looked at her intently.

"There is not one honest reason in all these, and the last is the weakest of the lot," he said coolly. "I really cannot listen to it.

You must think of something else...."

"I can hear the children," Caroline said, in a hurry. "Listen! don't you hear them calling for me? I am convinced they will have forgotten their coats, and this wind is so cold."

Rupert's eyes glistened.

"Let them come.... I will refer the matter to Betty.... She will soon settle everything."

Caroline turned crimson, and then she put out her hand.

"Perhaps ... I will marry you ... but it must be ever so far off....

Wait ... will you wait?" she asked half wistfully.

He stooped, and despite the fact that the children were so very near now, he kissed her hands and then her lips.

"You know I will ... all my life, if you insist," he answered.

But Caroline did not keep him waiting quite so long.