The girl arose mechanically from her chair, reached out as if for support to the mantle. "Why, Oh, why did you not tell me before--before"--she cried, then swayed as if to a fall. Dorian caught her and placed her back in the seat. He took her cold hands, but in a moment, she pulled them away. "Dorian, please sit down in this other chair, won't you?" Dorian did as she wanted him to do, but he turned the chair to face her. "I want you to believe me, Carlia." "I am trying to believe you." "Is it so hard as all that?" "What I fear is that you are doing all this for me out of the goodness of your heart. Listen, let me say what I want to say--I believe I can now.... You're the best man I know. I have never met anyone as good as you, no, not even my father--nobody. You're far above me. You always have been willing to sacrifice yourself for others; and now--what I fear is that you are just doing this, saying this, out of the goodness of your heart and not because you really--really love me." "Carlia, stop--don't." "I know you, Dorian. I've heard you and Uncle Zed talk, sometimes when you thought I was not listening. I know your high ideals of service, how you believe it is necessary for the higher to reach down to help and save the lower. Oh, I know, Dorian; and it is this that I think of. You cannot love poor me for my sake, but you are doing this for fear of not doing your duty. Hush--Listen! Not that I don't honor you for your high ideals--they are noble, and belong to just such as I believe you are. Yes, I have always, even as a child, looked up to you as someone big and strong and good--Yes, I have always worshiped you, loved you! There, you know it, but what's the use!" Dorian moved his chair close to her, then said: "You are mistaken, of course, in placing my goodness so high, though I've always tried to do the right by everybody. That I have failed with you is evidence that I am not so perfect as you say. But now, let's forget everything else but the fact that we love each other. Can't we be happy in that?" The roses faded from Carlia's cheeks, though coaxed to stay by the firelight. "My dear," he continued, "we'll go home, and I'll try to make up to you my failings. I think I can do that, Carlia, when you become my wife." "I can't, Dorian, Oh, I can't be that." "Why not Carlia?" "I can't marry you. I'm not--No, Dorian." "In time, Carlia. We will have to wait, of course; but some day"--he took her hands, and she did not seem to have power to resist--"some day" he said fervently, "you are going to be mine for time and for eternity." They looked into each others faces without fear. Then: "Go now, Dorian" she said. "I can't stand any more tonight. Please go." "Yes; I'll go. Tomorrow, the stage comes again this way, and we'll go with it. That's settled. Goodnight." They both arose. He still held her hands. "Goodnight," he repeated, and kissed her gently on the cheek. CHAPTER NINETEEN.