SHE: "Did you suppose that because I first took lessons of you from- -from--an enthusiasm for art, and then continued them for--for-- amus.e.m.e.nt, that I wished you to make love to me?"

HE: "No, I never supposed such a thing. I'm incapable of it. I beseech you to believe that no one could have more respect-- reverence"--He twirls his hat between his hands, and casts an imploring glance at her.

SHE: "Oh, respect--reverence! I know what they mean in the mouths of men. If you respected, if you reverenced me, could you dare to tell me, after my unguarded trust of you during the past months, that you had been all the time secretly in love with me?"

HE, plucking up a little courage: "I don't see that the three things are incompatible."

SHE: "Oh, then you acknowledge that you did presume upon something you thought you saw in me to tell me that you loved me, and that you were in love with me all the time?"

HE, contritely: "I have no right to suppose that you encouraged me; and yet--I can't deny it now--I was in love with you all the time."

SHE: "And you never said a word to let me believe that you had any such feeling toward me!"

HE: "I--I" -

SHE: "You would have parted from me without a syllable to suggest it--perhaps parted from me forever?" After a pause of silent humiliation for him: "Do you call that brave or generous? Do you call it manly--supposing, as you hoped, that _I_ had any such feeling?"

HE: "No; it was cowardly, it was mean, it was unmanly. I see it now, but I will spend my life in repairing the wrong, if you will only let me." He impetuously advances some paces toward her, and then stops, arrested by her irresponsive att.i.tude.

SHE, with a light sigh, and looking down at the paper, which she has continued to hold between her hands: "There was a time--a moment-- when I might have answered as you wish."

HE: "Oh! then there will be again. If you have changed once, you may change once more. Let me hope that some time--any time, dearest"

SHE, quenching him with a look: "Mr. Ransom, I shall NEVER change toward you! You confess that you had your opportunity, and that you despised it."

HE: "Oh! NOT despised it!"

SHE: "Neglected it."

HE: "Not wilfully--no. I confess that I was stupidly, vilely, pusillan--pusillan--illani" -

SHE: "'Monsly" -

HE: "Thanks--'mously unworthy of it; but I didn't despise it; I didn't neglect it; and if you will only let me show by a lifetime of devotion how dearly and truly I have loved you from the first moment I drove that cow away" -

SHE: "Mr. Ransom, I have told you that I should never change toward you. That cow was nothing when weighed in the balance against your being willing to leave a poor girl, whom you supposed interested in you, and to whom you had paid the most marked attention, without a word to show her that you cared for her. What is a cow, or a whole herd of cows, as compared with obliging a young lady to offer you money that you hadn't earned, and then savagely flinging it back in her face? A yoke of oxen would be nothing--or a mad bull."

HE: "Oh, I acknowledge it! I confess it."

SHE: "And you own that I am right in refusing to listen to you now?"

HE, desolately: "Yes, yes."

SHE: "It seems that you gave me lessons in order to be with me, and if possible to interest me in you; and then you were going away without a word."

HE, with a groan: "It was only because I was afraid to speak."

SHE: "Oh, is THAT any excuse?"

HE: "No; none."

SHE: "A man ought always to have courage." After a pause, in which he stands before her with bowed head: "Then there's nothing for me but to give you this money."

HE, with sudden energy: "This is too much! I" -

SHE, offering him the bank-notes: "No; it is the exact sum. I counted it very carefully."

HE: "I won't take it; I can't! I'll never take it!"

SHE, standing with the money in her outstretched hand: "I have your word as a gentleman that you will take it."

HE, gasping: "Oh, well--I will take it--I will"--He clutches the money, and rushes toward the door. "Good-evening; ah--good-by" -

SHE, calling after him: "The receipt, Mr. Ransom! Please sign this receipt!" She waves the paper in the air.

HE: "Oh, yes, certainly! Where is it--what--which"--He rushes back to her, and seizing the receipt, feels blindly about for the pen and ink. "Where shall I sign?"

SHE: "Read it first."

HE: "Oh, it's all--all right" -

SHE: "I insist upon your reading it. It's a business transaction.

Read it aloud."

HE, desperately: "Well, well!" He reads. "'Received from Miss Ethel Reed, in full, for twenty-five lessons in oil-painting, one hundred and twenty-five dollars, and her hand, heart, and dearest love forever.'" He looks up at her. "Ethel!"

SHE, smiling: "Sign it, sign it!"

HE, catching her in his arms and kissing her: "Oh, yes--HERE!"

SHE, pulling a little away from him, and laughing: "Oh, oh! I only wanted ONE signature! Twenty autographs are too many, unless you'll let me trade them off, as the collectors do."

HE: "No; keep them all! I couldn't think of letting any one else have them. One more!"

SHE: "No; it's quite enough!"

SHE frees herself, and retires beyond the table. "This unexpected affection" -

HE: "IS it unexpected--seriously?"

SHE: "What do you mean?"

HE: "Oh, nothing!"

SHE: "Yes, tell me!"

HE: "I hoped--I thought--perhaps--that you might have been prepared for some such demonstration on my part."