"Can't you!" cried Betty eagerly. "Oh, I can! Just think more carefully, and you will remember many, many things which you have not stopped to notice at the time. To-night, for instance! Do you think it chance that I missed my brother, and came to you out of all the hundreds of people who were around? _I_ don't! I believe God sent me to you because you would not speak to anyone you knew; because you needed help so badly--and I need it, too--and we could help each other." The shadowy head bent nearer to hers, and the arm pressed against her hand. "Thank you," said the voice in a softened key; "that is a kind thought! It is quite true that I could not have spoken as I have done under ordinary circumstances. When I met you I was going straight for the nearest water. There are many places where an accident might easily occur on a night like this. I do not wish to make any scandal, only to disappear." Betty drew in her breath sharply. The sound of that one word "water" gave a definite touch to the situation, and thereby trebly increased its tragedy, but the gentleness of the voice gave her increased hope, and she cried eagerly-- "Disappear, yes! I can understand it would be difficult to stay among the old surroundings, but why not disappear _to come back_ another day, when you can redeem the past? Suppose you went away to a strange place, and worked hard, oh, very hard, and denied yourself every possible thing, so as to save up money. Suppose you succeeded--when people are terribly in earnest about a thing, they generally _do_ succeed--and in some years' time could pay off what you owe! That would be braver than killing yourself, wouldn't it? That would be worth living for. Or if it took too long to pay it back in your friend's lifetime, he has children, and you could help them as their father has helped you. That would be paying back the debt in the way he would like best. Think of it! They would imagine you dead, or perhaps worse than dead, but they wouldn't be angry with you any more; people don't go on being angry for years and years, especially if they are good and kind, as your friends must be. But some day it might happen that they were in trouble, or getting old and tired, and feeling it was hard to go on working, and a letter would come in-- from you--and inside that letter there would be a cheque, and they would be so happy, and so thankful, and so _helped_! And they would send for you to come back, and the old trouble would be wiped away, and they would honour you for your brave fight. Oh, you will--you _will_! You must do it! Promise, promise that you will!" Her voice broke into a sob, and something like a faint echo of the sound came to her ears through the darkness. It seemed the most promising answer she could have had, in its contrast from the biting self- possession of a few minutes before. Her heart beat high with hope.