"Yes," she continued, "that was true--that is true. It is all I can do; but I can do it, I have done it, I shall continue to do it! Mr. Camran, I esteem you beyond the power of language to express. Your kindness, your consideration, your generosity have affected me wonderfully. Some day you will know to what extent. But there can be no relation between us nearer than the one we now occupy. Never, never, never!" She had covered every point, but like suitors the world over I would not believe her. "Answer me a few questions," I said. "Yes, in justice to my proposal, which I cannot but feel does honor to both of us. Do you mean to say that your final declination of my offer is based on the fact that I read your private correspondence?" "No, it would have been the same without that," she answered. "Let me add that I forgive you freely for what you did in that respect." "Is it because--I want to understand perfectly--you think it dishonorable to wed a man richer than you, whose acquaintance you made in an unusual way?" She shook her head in negation. "Is there, then, anything that you have heard, or suspect, against my reputation?" Again she shook her head decidedly. I took up her letter and read: If I were of his social grade--if I could have retained the position in which I was born, he would be my ideal. Such thoughts, alas! are not for your poor friend, Marjorie. "Those words mean something," I said, earnestly. Tears came into her eyes. "Mr. Camran, do you think it is fair to press me like this?" she asked, with a sob. "There is an adage," I replied, "that all is fair in love. To give you up means to shatter my existence. I have been a reckless boy. With you as my wife I would make a worthy man--worthy of you, of myself, of the noble line from which I sprung. I fear, and I say it deliberately, that if I lose you I shall sink again into the depths from which I have escaped." "All that," she said, gently, "you said when your friend Statia gave you the same answer I am compelled to give now." "It is jealousy!" I exclaimed, excitedly. "You are angry because I asked her, before I had even seen you! Very well. But, understand what you are doing! I cannot go through the agony I suffered a year ago." She sprang up, as if to ward off an impending danger, and came so near that her face was within six inches of mine. I looked her squarely in the eyes. "You cannot fascinate me in that way!" I cried, bitterly. "You have ruined a man who has taken you from poverty and given you for two months, at least, the life of a lady. Don't put your hands on me!" as she attempted to touch my shoulder. "I have finished with you. Take the advance payment you have had and go to your home, if you have one. But, remember, by your own agreement, the clothes in which you stand belong to me. Take them off before you leave this room, give them up, or I will strip them from you by force!"