"Are you not going to look?" he asked softly as he touched the spring and threw back the lid. Frances scarcely turned her head, though the sparkle under the electric light was magnetic. The young man made a step closer to her, put his hand upon her shoulder as if to turn her face toward the table; but Frances shrank back into the chair close by and hid her face against the cushions. All her anger, her jealousy, were but a part of her own wretched self, and he was innocent, her generous heart accused; she was shamed to the quick. But Lawson had no key to this. He was genuinely frightened, and quick as the fear was the old ungovernable will to win. He knelt by her, striving to pull her hands from her face, whispering all the endearing words he could muster. He cursed his folly and the insanity that had beset him. He knew, why had he ever thought of it lightly, that she was the one thing the world held for him desirable. He was wild with fear. He would try one other way. "Frances," he pleaded finally, as he got to his feet, "if you do not look at me, speak to me, I shall--I shall know you do not wish to at all," his voice was as firm as he could command it. And Frances stumbling to her feet with face averted, held out her hands. It was many minutes later that he began to talk to her of the jewels. They were magnificent. Frances' simplicity was affrighted. It was a part of his composite nature to remember her with passionate devotion while he was outwardly forgetful and to search for the finest gems he could find. "I can never wear them," faltered Frances. "But you will, and many others," he assured, as he went on ardently to tell her of all he should do for her, not obtruding his wealth, yet not losing sight of it; but when he was done he was astonished at Frances' answer. She was looking at something in her own heart and striving to show it to him. "Do you know," she began falteringly, "there is something I must tell you. You must be quite sure--you may think you do, but you must be sure you--you"--the voice sank very low--"you love me!" "Love you," pleaded Lawson, "there are no words to tell you how I do!" and there were none for the depth and height of the love he felt then as he looked into her wistful eyes. "But I am afraid I am unreasonable--or--or-- Let me tell you," her voice was distinct and decided now. "I cannot stand a half-hearted devotion, a devotion to be shared with--"--"every pretty face" her heart said, but her lips--"with any one. Better nothing at all. Don't offer it to me!" She was speaking wildly, perhaps, remembering some things. "A man's whole love I should demand, pure, sincere, unshared, or nothing. I--" she faltered, seeing Lawson had grown white to the lips. "I love you!" he said hoarsely. "Yes, now," the girl insisted; "but a year from now--ten?"