“Was there ever such a problem?” questioned Letty, staring at the floor. She rose, after a few moments of silence, and put her hands on his round, solid head. Her yellow, silken house-gown, faintly scented, touched his shoulders. “Poor Lester,” she said. “You certainly have tied yourself up in a knot. But it’s a Gordian knot, my dear, and it will have to be cut. Why don’t you discuss this whole thing with her, just as you have with me, and see how she feels about it?” “It seems such an unkind thing to do,” he replied. “You must take some action, Lester dear,” she insisted. “You can’t just drift. You are doing yourself such a great injustice. Frankly, I can’t advise you to marry her; and I’m not speaking for myself in that, though I’ll take you gladly, even if you did forsake me in the first place. I’ll be perfectly honest—whether you ever come to me or not—I love you, and always shall love you.” “I know it,” said Lester, getting up. He took her hands in his, and studied her face curiously. Then he turned away. Letty paused to get her breath. His action discomposed her. “But you’re too big a man, Lester, to settle down on ten thousand a year,” she continued. “You’re too much of a social figure to drift. You ought to get back into the social and financial world where you belong. All that’s happened won’t injure you, if you reclaim your interest in the company. You can dictate your own terms. And if you tell her the truth she won’t object, I’m sure. If she cares for you, as you think she does, she will be glad to make this sacrifice. I’m positive of that. You can provide for her handsomely, of course.” “It isn’t the money that Jennie wants,” said Lester, gloomily. “Well, even if it isn’t, she can live without you and she can live better for having an ample income.” “She will never want if I can help it,” he said solemnly. “You must leave her,” she urged, with a new touch of decisiveness. “You must. Every day is precious with you, Lester! Why don’t you make up your mind to act at once—to-day, for that matter? Why not?” “Not so fast,” he protested. “This is a ticklish business. To tell you the truth, I hate to do it. It seems so brutal—so unfair. I’m not one to run around and discuss my affairs with other people. I’ve refused to talk about this to any one heretofore—my father, my mother, any one. But somehow you have always seemed closer to me than any one else, and, since I met you this time, I have felt as though I ought to explain—I have really wanted to. I care for you. I don’t know whether you understand how that can be under the circumstances. But I do. You’re nearer to me intellectually and emotionally than I thought you were. Don’t frown. You want the truth, don’t you? Well, there you have it. Now explain me to myself, if you can.”