"Yes; he writes rather irregularly, but his letters are precious to me. He was the first to make me feel that this cramped fettered life of mine held any good or anything worth living for. He made me ashamed of my selfish sorrow, and every message from him, no matter how brief, seems like an inspiration to something higher and nobler." "He makes us all conscious of our selfishness," Kate answered, "for if ever there was an unselfish life,--a life devoted to the alleviation of the sufferings and sorrows of others,--it is his. I wish he were here now," she added, with a sigh; "he has more influence with papa than all the rest of us combined, though perhaps nothing even he might say would be availing in this instance." In all their friendly intercourse of the last few weeks there had been one subject tacitly avoided by each, to which, although present in the mind of each, no reference was ever made. From Kate's last words Darrell knew that subject must now be met; he must know from her own lips the worst. He turned sick with dread and remained silent. A moment later Kate again faced him with a smile, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Poor papa!" she said, softly, her lips quivering; "he thinks he is doing it all for my happiness, and no matter what wretchedness or misery I suffer, no knowledge of it shall ever pain his dear old heart!" "Kathie, must it be?" Darrell exclaimed, each word vibrating with anguish; "is there no hope--no chance of escape for you from such a fate?" "I cannot see the slightest reason to hope for escape," she replied, with the calmness born of despair. She clasped her small hands tightly and turned a pale, determined face towards Darrell. "You know, you understand it all, and I know that you do," she said, "so there is no use in our avoiding this any longer. I want to talk it over with you and tell you all the truth, so you will not think, by and by, that I have been false or fickle or weak; but first there is something I want you to tell me." She paused a moment, then, looking him full in the eyes, she asked, earnestly,-- "John Darrell, do you still love me?" Startled out of his customary self-control, Darrell suddenly clasped her in his arms, exclaiming,-- "Kathie darling, how can you ask such a question? Do you think my love for you could ever grow less?" For a moment her head nestled against his breast with a little movement of ineffable content, as she replied,-- "No; it was not that I doubted your love, but I wanted an assurance of it to carry with me through the coming days." Then, gently withdrawing herself from his embrace, she continued, in the same calm, even tones: "You ask if there is no chance of escape; I can see absolutely none; but I want you to understand, if I am forced into this marriage which papa has planned for me, that it is not through any weakness or cowardice on my part; that if I yield, it will be simply because of the love and reverence I bear my father."