"Ah, Trevor, don't--please don't. . . . Not again. I thought all that was dead and buried years ago. And do you really think"--she smiled a little sadly--"if I--if things were different--that I should have written to ask you to meet me to-day? Have you learned so little of women in all these years?" There was something besides sadness in her eyes now: a wistful, half-maternal tenderness. He raised his head. "I've learned nothing about women, Margaret, but what I learned from you." She gently withdrew her hand. "Trevor, we're not children any longer. We're older and wiser. We----" "We're older--yes. But I don't see what that has to do with it, except that my need is greater. . . . I'm a little lonelier. There's never been anyone but you. I've never looked across the road at a woman in my life--except you. I know we're not children, and for that reason we ought to know our own minds. Do you know yours, Margaret?" Margaret bowed her head, collecting her thoughts and setting them in order, before she answered: "It isn't easy to say what I have to say. You must be patient--generous, as you can be, Trevor, of all the men I know." She hesitated and coloured again a little. "You say you want me. If there were no one else who I thought had a greater claim, you should--no, hush! listen, dear--I would give you--what you want . . . gladly--oh, gladly! But the children need me--my influence. . . . Miss Dacre said it is doing the highest service one could for the Empire . . . theirs is the higher claim. Can you understand? Oh, can you?" Torps made no reply, staring out to sea with sombre eyes. Gaining confidence with his silence, she continued the shy unfolding of her ideals. "Nothing is too good for boys; no training is high enough, because they are to be the builders and upholders of our Empire. Don't you think that little girls, who are destined some day to be the mates of these boys, should be prepared in a way that will make them worthy of their share of the inheritance? They have to be taught ideals of honour and courage and intelligent patriotism, so that they can help and encourage their men in years to come. They must learn to cook and sew, learn the laws of Nature and hygiene, so that they can make the home not 'an habitation enforced'--as it is for so many women--but a place where they may with all honour bring into the world other little girls and boys. . . ." She drew her breath quickly. "Ah, that is not a thing anyone can do, teaching all that! It must be someone who gives all--and who gives herself gladly . . . as I have." Torps turned his head as if to speak, but checked himself. "Don't think I am setting myself upon a pedestal. Don't think my heart is too anaemic to--to care for you, and that I am trying to shelter myself behind talk of a life's mission. Oh!" she cried, "be generous. Don't try to make it harder."