But the next day, when he called upon her, he was told Miss Langton was not well, and could not see any one. He knew very well that she was only putting him off, and he made up his mind that at night she should not escape him. She took care however not to be caught alone, and her share in the performance was nearly over before Aubrey, always on the watch, saw Miss Montrose, who had been standing at the side with her, go upon the scene at her cue and leave Annie by herself at last. Then she heard his voice behind her; she could not escape now, for before long she would hear her own cue, and must be on the watch for it. “Good-evening, Miss Langton.” “Oh, good-evening, Mr. Cooke!” She gave him her hand; it was trembling a little, and she did not look up into his face. “I have not had an opportunity of speaking to you before. You will let me see you home?” “Not to-night; I have promised to go to supper with Miss Norris.” “You are putting me off, I see. Is it fair, Annie? Is it right? Am I not worth an answer?” “An answer to what?” “To what I said to you last night. You can’t have forgotten so soon. If I were a stranger, if I were the most contemptible wretch living, if you had always treated me with open dislike, you could not have misunderstood or forgotten what I said to you last night.” Annie turned and looked up at him, pale under her _rouge_. “I have not forgotten, nor understood--at least, I think not. I thought you too would have understood--that I tried to avoid you, because I feared, I knew my answer, if I must answer, would give you pain.” “Then you don’t like me?” A ray of vehement passion flashed from her dark eyes. “Don’t torture me! You know I like you; but I can’t--I can’t do more! I don’t know whether I have done wrong--I never meant to lead you to feel like this. How could I go on avoiding you when I was lonely and you were kind?” “Why should you avoid me? Why should you not love me?” She did not answer; but there was no mistaking the misery on her face for coquetry or caprice. “Are you bound by some other engagement, Annie?” She shuddered. Before he could speak again, she turned quickly to him. “Don’t ask me any more; believe what I say, that I am suffering more than you can, and it is my own fault. I am bound by an engagement in which love is out of the question, and always must be. What love is to most women ambition is to me.” “Do you mean that you will marry for ambition? You, Annie? Wait, wait a little for me; I will get on--I can--I’m not a fool----” “Hush!” said Annie sharply. “It is impossible; I can never marry you! You are only torturing me, and all to no end. I cannot marry you; I cannot love you!” “You could if you would, Annie. I could make you love me; you are always happy when you are with me.” His words moved her, and she stopped him abruptly. “Happy? Yes, for the time. We have been good friends, that is all. But there is something more in life than you can give me.” “What is there?”