"Guess you're right, Tave--By A. J. there they go now!" He nudged Octavius with his elbow. Octavius, who had passed the shop and was standing on the sidewalk with old Quimber, saw the two leave it and walk slowly in the direction of The Bow. He listened for the sound of Aileen's merry laugh and chat, but he heard nothing. His grave face at once impressed Joel. "Something's up 'twixt those two, eh, Tave?" he whispered. Octavius nodded in reply; he was comprehending all that old man's words implied. He bade Quimber good night and walked on to The Greenbush. The Colonel found him more taciturn than usual that evening.... "I can't, Luigi,--I can't marry you," she answered almost irritably. The two were nearing the entrance to Champo; the Italian was pleading his cause. "I can't--so don't say anything more about it." "But, Aileen, I will wait--I can wait; I've waited so long already. I believe I began to love you through that knothole, you remember?" "I haven't forgotten;" she half smiled at the remembrance; "but that seems so long ago, and things have changed so--I've changed, Luigi." The tone of her voice was hard. Luigi looked at her in surprise. "What has changed you, Aileen? Tell me--can't you trust me?" "Luigi!"--she faced him suddenly, looking straight up into his handsome face that turned white as he became aware that what she was about to say was final--"I'd give anything if I could say to you what you want me to--you deserve all my love, if I could only give it to you, for you are faithful and true, and mean what you say--it would be the best thing for me, I know; but I can't, Luigi; I've nothing to give, and it would be living a lie to you from morning till night to give you less than you deserve. I only blame myself that I'm not enough like other girls to know a good man when I see him, and take his love with a thankful heart that it's mine--but it's no use--don't blame me for being myself--" Her lips trembled; she bit the lower one white in her effort to steady it. For a moment Luigi made no reply. Suddenly he leaned towards her--she drew away from him quickly--and said between his teeth, all the long-smouldering fire of southern passion, passion that is founded on jealousy, glowing in his eyes: "Tell me, Aileen Armagh, is there another man you love?--tell me--" Rag who had been with her all the afternoon moved with a quick threatening motion to her side and a warning _gurr--rrrr_ for the one who should dare to touch her. "No." She spoke defiantly. Luigi straightened himself. Rag sprang upon her fawning and caressing; she shoved him aside roughly, for the dog was at that moment but the scapegoat for his master; Rag cowered at her feet. "Ah--" It was a long-drawn breath of relief. Luigi Poggi's eyes softened; the fire in them ceased to leap and blaze; something like hope brightened them. "I could bear anything but that--I was afraid--" He hesitated.