"No, indeed," interrupted Rita, "that can never be true. I would never care for any man as I cared for--for him. But I care for him no longer. It is all over between--between--it is all over." From the hard expression of the girl's face one might easily have supposed she was speaking the truth; there was no trace of emotion. "But, Rita! This will never do!" insisted Miss Tousy. "You don't know yourself. You are taking a step that will wreck your happiness. You should also consider him." "You don't know what he has done," answered Rita, still looking down at her folded hands. "I don't _care_ what he has done. You did not make yourself love him, and you cannot throw off your love. You may for a time convince yourself that you are indifferent, but you are simply lying to yourself, my dear girl, and you had better lie to any one else--the consequences will be less serious. Never deceive yourself, Rita. That is a deception you can't maintain. You may perhaps deceive all the rest of the world so long as you live--many a person has done it--but yourself--hopeless, Rita, perfectly hopeless." "I'm not deceiving myself," answered the wilful girl. "You don't know what he has done." "I don't _care_," retorted Miss Tousy warmly. "If he were my lover, I--I tell you, Rita Bays, I'd forgive him. I'd keep him. He is one out of a thousand--so big and handsome; so honest, strong, and true." "But he's not true; that's the trouble," answered Rita, angrily, although there had been a soft, tell-tale radiance in her eyes when Miss Tousy praised him. "Ah, he has been inveigled into smiling upon another girl," asked Miss Tousy, laughing and taking Rita's hand. "That is the penalty you must pay for having so splendid a lover. Of course other girls will want him. I should like to have him myself--and, Rita, there are lots of girls bold enough or weak enough to seek him outright. You mustn't see those little things. Frequently the best use a woman can make of her eyes is to shut them." In place of shutting her eyes, Rita began to weep, and Miss Tousy continued:-- "This man loves you and no other, my sweet one. That's the great thing, after all. No girl can steal his heart from you--of that you may be sure." "But I say you don't know," sobbed Rita. "I will tell you." And she did tell her, stumbling, sobbing, and blushing through the narrative of Dic's unforgivable perfidy.