She hesitated. Then she said, “Would you go if I went with you?” He had been looking, not at her, but at the sea. Now he slowly turned. “Why--why--” he stammered. “Why, Miss--Oh, dear me, you don't--you can't mean--” She shook her head. “I suppose I mean anything,” she said, “anything that will stop you from throwin' away your life work.” He was very pale and his eyes were fixed upon her face. “Do you mean--” he began, “do you mean you could--you would marry me?” She shook her head again. “I think I must be crazy,” she said, desperately. “I think we all must be, your cousin as well as the rest of us. He came to me a little while ago and asked me to--to say yes to you. HE did! He, of all people! The--the very one that I--I--” “Yes, yes, yes, of course.” Galusha was trembling with eagerness. “Yes, of course. Cousin Gussie is an extraordinarily able man. He approves of it highly. He told me so.” She scarcely heard him. “Oh, don't you see,” she went on, “why it would be wicked for me to think of such a thing? You are a great man, a famous man; you have been everywhere and seen everything; I haven't had any real education, any that counts besides yours; I haven't been anywhere; I am just a country old maid. Oh, you would be ashamed of me in a month.... No, no, no, I mustn't. I won't.” “But, Miss Martha--” “No. Oh, no!” She turned away. Galusha had what was, for him, an amazing and unprecedented inspiration. “Very well,” he declared. “I shall go to--to the devil, I think. Yes, I will. I shall give away my money, all of it, and go to the devil.” It was absurd enough, but the absurdity of it did not strike either of them then. “Oh, WON'T you go to Egypt?” she begged. “Won't you, PLEASE?” He was firm. “No,” he declared. “Not unless you go with me. Ah--ah--Miss Martha, will you?” She hesitated, wrung her hands--and surrendered. “Oh, I suppose I shall have to,” she said. He did not dare believe it. “But--but I don't want you to have to,” he cried. “YOU mustn't marry me for--for Egypt, Miss Martha. Of course, it is too much to ask; no doubt it is quite impossible, but you--you mustn't marry me unless you really--ah--want to.” And then a very astonishing thing happened. Martha turned to him, and tears were in her eyes. “Oh,” she cried, breathlessly, “do you suppose there is a woman in this world who wouldn't want to marry a man like YOU?” After a while they discovered that it was raining. As a matter of fact, it had been raining for some time and was now raining hard, but as Galusha said, it didn't make a bit of difference, really. They put up the umbrella, which until now had been quite forgotten, and walked home along the wet path, between the dripping weeds and bushes. It was almost dark and, as they passed the lighthouse, the great beacon blazed from the tower. Galusha was babbling like a brook, endlessly but joyful.