"Miss Barrison," I said, plunging into the subject headfirst, "I'm extremely sorry, but I have news that forces me to believe the journey too dangerous for you to attempt, so I think that it would be much better--" The consternation in her pretty face checked me. "I'm awfully sorry," I muttered, appalled by her silence. "But--but you engaged me!" "I know it--I should not have done it. I only--" "But you did engage me, didn't you?" "I believe that I did--er--oh, of course--" "But a verbal contract is binding between honorable people, isn't it, Mr. Gilland?" "Yes, but--" "And ours was a verbal contract; and in consideration you paid me my first week's salary, and I bought shirt-waists and a short skirt and three changes of--and tooth-brushes and--" "I know, I know," I groaned. "But I'll fix all that." "You can't if you break your contract." "Why not?" "Because," she said, flushing up, "I should not accept." "You don't understand--" "Really I do. You are going into a dangerous country and you're afraid I'll be frightened." "It's something like that." "Tell me what are the dangers?" "Alligators, big, bitey snakes--" "Oh, you've said all that before!" "Seminoles--" "And that too. What else is there? Did the young man in the sun-helmet tell you of something worse?" "Yes--much worse! Something so dreadfully horrible that--" "What?" "I am not at liberty to tell you, Miss Barrison," I said, striving to appear shocked. "It would not make any difference anyway," she observed, calmly. "I'm not afraid of anything in the world." "Yes, you are!" I said. "Listen to me; I'd be awfully glad to have you go--I--I really had no idea how I'd miss you--miss such pleasant companionship. But it is not possible--" The recollection of Professor Farrago's aversion suddenly returned. "No, no," I said, "it can't be done. I'm most unhappy over this mistake of mine; please don't look as though you were ready to cry!" "Don't discharge me, Mr. Gilland," she said. "I'm a brute to do it, but I must; I was a bigger brute to engage you, but I did. Don't--please don't look at me that way, Miss Barrison! As a matter of fact, I'm tender-hearted and I can't endure it." "If you only knew what I had been through you wouldn't send me away," she said, in a low voice. "It took my last penny to clothe myself and pay for the last lesson at the college of stenography. I--I lived on almost nothing for weeks; every respectable place was filled; I walked and walked and walked, and nobody wanted me--they all required people with experience--and how can I have experience until I begin, Mr. Gilland? I was perfectly desperate when I went to see you, knowing that you had advertised for a man--" The slightest break in her clear voice scared me. "I'm not going to cry," she said, striving to smile. "If I must go, I will go. I--I didn't mean to say all this--but--but I've been so--so discouraged;--and you were not very cross with me--"