"Monday evening Mr. Williams came to call upon me. You know you said I must receive him kindly. I did so. And he again asked me to--to--you know--to marry him. When I told him it was impossible, he grew angry; and when I became frightened and tried to leave the room, he caught me by the hand and would not let me go. Then he told me again how desperately he cared for me; and when I answered angrily and tried to escape, he held me and--and--oh, Dic, I can't tell you. I thought I could, but I can't. I--I loathe myself." She bent her head forward, and covering her face with her hands, sobbed convulsively. "Go on, Rita. My God! you must tell me," demanded Dic. "I know I must," she replied between sobs. "Oh, Dic, do not hate me. He held me to him as you sometimes do,--but, oh, it was so different. I was helpless, and he bent back my head and kissed me on the lips till I thought I should faint." "The cowardly hound. He shall pay dearly for his--" "I have your promise, your oath," said the girl, interrupting him. "But, Rita--" "I trusted you, Dic, and I know you will faithfully keep your promise. Father owes Williams a large sum of money, and Tom has been stealing from him." Here she began to weep. "He will ruin father and send Tom to the penitentiary if he learns that I have told you this. He told me he would, and I promised I would tell no one; but my duty to you is higher than my duty to keep my promise. Now you know why I held you off when we came in here." "No, I don't know," he replied. "You have not promised to marry him?" "No, no," she returned excitedly. "Then why did you refuse me?" "I'm not worthy to be your wife. I feel that I have been contaminated," she answered. "No, no, girl," he cried joyfully. "It was not your fault. The falling snow is not purer than you, and truth itself is not truer than your heart. I go to New York soon, and when I return all your troubles will cease." "They have ceased already, Dic," she murmured, placing her head upon his breast, while tears fell unheeded over her cheeks. "I thought an hour ago I should never again be happy, but I am happy already. Dic, you are a wonderful man to produce such a change in so short a time." "I am wonderful only in what you give me," he answered. "How beautifully you speak," she whispered; but the remainder of that interview is not at all necessary to this story. Dic left Rita late in the afternoon and met Williams on the street down town. They could not easily pass each other without exchanging words, so they stopped and spoke stiffly about the weather, past, present, and future. Dic tried to conceal all traces of resentment, and partially succeeded. Williams, still smarting from his troubles and mistakes with Rita, and hating Dic accordingly, concealed his feelings with poor success. The hatred of these men for each other was plain in every word and act, and in a few moments, Williams, unable longer to bear the strain, said:--