"A new life appears to open out to me, and my old recklessness and misery seem to drop away. I waken to the fact that there is something to live for--something to rouse me to new effort, and to work for as an earnest man should work. I did not seek her out; I did not strive to love her," he continued, as if speaking to some one else; "but her love seemed to come to me, to enweave itself with my every thought." "I will not listen," panted Sage, but her heart whispered, "Luke never spoke to me like that." "I fought against it for a time," he went on, dreamily, "for I said to myself this would be wronging her. She is engaged to another, and I should only make her unhappy and disturb the even tenor of her ways." "Which you have done," she cried, in piteous tones. "Do not blame me," he said, softly. "I fought hard. I swore I would not think of you, and I crushed down what I told myself was my mad love within my breast; but when, by accident, I found that I was wrong, and that no engagement existed between you and Luke Ross--" "But there is, there is," she cried. "Once more, Mr Cyril, pray leave me." "A few mere words of form, Sage. You do not love this man; and, besides, your relatives have not given their consent. Oh, listen to me. Why should you condemn me to a life of reckless misery? You know how I have been drifting for years without an anchor to stay me. You are that anchor now. Let me cling to you for my father's, my mother's sake; for if you cast me off, continue this cruel wrong, you drive me once more from home, to go floating aimlessly, without a chance of becoming a better man. You cannot be so harsh." "I cannot listen to you," she murmured. "I tell you," he cried, "that if you cast me off you condemn me to a life of misery and despair. Sage, dear Sage," he cried, catching her hand, "I have been wild and foolish, but I have the making in me of a better man. Help me to live aright. You are so good, and pure, and sweet--so wise and gentle. Be my guide and helpmate, and those at home will bless you. Am I always to plead in vain?" "How can I look Luke Ross in the eyes again if I listen to such words as these?" "Luke Ross? Am I to stand idly by and let Luke Ross, the cold, careless cynic, snatch you from my arms?" "How dare you speak of him like that?" she cried, angrily. "He is all that is wise and good." "And worships you so dearly that he has gone away for three years, at least, to prove to you his love." "It is a great act of noble forbearance," she said, proudly, "and you slander him by your words." "I hope I do," he said; "but they were wrung from me by my misery and suffering. But no, I will not believe you can be so cruel to me. I know that I may hope."