'You wish you could? I wonder--I wonder, Althea, if you feel a little nearer to it just now. I seem to feel, myself, that you are.' Was she? How she wished she were. Yet the wish was mixed with fear. She said, faltering, 'Don't ask me now. I'm so glad to see you--so glad; but that's not the same thing, is it?' 'It may be on the way to it.' 'May it?' she sighed tremblingly. There was a silence; and then, taking her hand again, he again kissed it, and holding it for an insistent moment said, 'Althea, won't you try being engaged to me?' She said nothing, turning away her face. 'You might make a habit of loving me, you know,' he went on half whimsically. 'No one would know anything about it. It would be our secret, our little experiment. If only you'd try it. Dearest, I do love you so deeply.' And then--how it was she did not know, but it was again Franklin's words rather than Franklin that moved her, so that he must have seen the yielding to his love, if not to him, in her face--she was in his arms, and he was kissing her and saying, 'O Althea, won't you try?' Althea's mind whirled. She needed to be kissed; that alone was evident; for she did not draw away; but the tears came, of perplexity and pathos, and she said, 'Franklin, dear Franklin, I'll try--I mean, I'll try to be in love with you--I can't be engaged, not really engaged--but I will try.' 'Darling--you are nearer it----' 'Yes--I don't know, Franklin--I mustn't bind myself. I can't marry you unless I am in love with you--can I, Franklin?' 'Well, I don't know about that,' said Franklin, his voice a little shaken. 'You can't expect me to give you an impartial answer to that now--can you, dear? I feel as if I wanted you to marry me on the chance you'd come to love me. And you do care for me enough for this, don't you? That in itself is such an incredible gift.'