"You must be very patient then," she answered with difficulty. "It is hard to say, and I don't know where to begin. Oh, yes, I know now. I must begin where we left off when--well, that other time." Duncan saw that she needed assistance, and he gave it by speaking soothingly to her, saying: "You are to begin wherever you find it easiest to begin, and you are to tell me nothing that it distresses you to tell." "Oh, but all of it distresses me, and I must tell it--all of it." Again Duncan spoke soothingly, and presently the girl began again. "Well, first, I can never--I mean I mustn't--I mustn't say 'yes' to the questions you asked me that other time." "You mean when I asked if you would be my wife?" "Yes. That's it. Thank you very much. That's the first thing I am to tell you." "Who bade you tell me that?" "Oh, nobody--or rather--I mean nobody told me I mustn't say 'yes,' but after I had made up my mind that I mustn't, then auntie said I was bound to tell you about it all. I wanted to write it, but she said that wouldn't be fair, and that I must tell you myself." "But why did you make up your mind that you mustn't say 'yes'? Can you not love me, Barbara?" "Oh, yes--I mean no--or rather--I mustn't." "But if you can, why is it that you mustn't?" That question at last gave Barbara courage to speak. It seemed to nerve her for the ordeal, and, at the same time, to point a way for the telling. "Why, I mustn't love you, Mr. Duncan, because I cannot marry you. You see, that would be very wrong. When you--well, when you asked me those questions, it startled me, and I didn't know what to say, but after you had gone away that night I saw clearly that I mustn't think of such a thing. It would be so unfair to you." "But how would it be unfair? It would be doing the one thing in the world that I want you to do. It would be giving me the one woman in the world whom I want for my wife, the only woman I shall ever think of marrying." "But you mustn't think of that any more. You see, Mr. Duncan, I am not fit to be your wife. I should be a terrible drag upon you. You are already a man of prominence and everybody says you are soon to become a man of great distinction. You must have a wife worthy of such a man, a wife who can help him and do him credit in society. Now you know I could never become that sort of woman. I am only an obscure girl. I don't know how. I can not talk brilliantly. I couldn't impress people as your wife must. I am not even educated in any regular way. I've just grown up in my own fashion--in the shade as it were--and the strong sunlight would only emphasize my insignificance." Duncan tried to interrupt, but she quickly cut him short.