"I tell you what it is, Sempland. I like you, I always have liked you. When I--er--dropped out of the old set, you know, before the war, I didn't mind giving up any one so much as you. And I was sorry for you to-night. You hadn't had a chance. God knows I love the girl, but I am not the man for her. I would break her heart in a month. You don't know women, I take it, but I think she will be yours in the end. I give her to you." "She is not yours to give." "No, I know she isn't. But I withdraw in your favor." "I don't want that sort of a fair field. Harry," went on the other man, unconsciously dropping into the familiar form of boyhood, which caused Lacy's face to flush with pleasure, "I am sure she loves you. I thought it was I, at first, but since this afternoon I have changed my mind. Why can't you be different? You are not a fit man to marry any honest woman now, and when I thought of your record I doubted that you ever would be. I was sure you would not, but--see here, old man! Throw the past aside! A fellow that's got it in him to do what you have done for the South--why can't you control yourself? Turn over a new leaf. I love her, too. She's more to me than life itself, but her happiness is more than mine. If she loves you, and wants you, make yourself worthy of her. By heaven, I'll help you, if it kills me! You thought I was harsh to-day. I swear to you if you succeed nobody will acknowledge it quicker than I!" "Will you tell her so?" "I will!" "Rhett," said the other man, stretching out his hand, "the woman I love has this day honored me, but by heaven I believe you have honored me more. I did think it was a low-down trick for you to go to Miss Glen, but I know why you did it, and you were right. It's too late. I can never be anything different. My father and grandfather both died in drunken sprees--it's in my blood. I can't help it. I've had a chance or two to do something a little out of the ordinary in this war, thank God for it, but I suppose the reason I was able to carry it through was that I cared little whether I lived or died. No, that isn't true. I'd rather die than live, but I would like to go out of existence doing something fine and noble. I--I--might get a better chance on the other side, then, you know. Life is nothing to me, and there are no possibilities in it." He spoke bitterly. It was rare that any one saw him in that mood. "I tell you I'm cursed! I wouldn't take that girl if she did accept me. I only wanted to trouble you. Well, no, not exactly that, either. I love her, God knows, but the devil's got me in his grip and--" "I can't understand it," said Sempland, vaguely. "Of course you can't. You're so strong and so self-contained--such as you never can understand such as I. But to be a drunkard, and a gambler, and a--" He stopped and threw up his hands, and then dropped them heavily by his side.