“Why, no, not in this case; not much, at any rate. Do you think they should?” “Perhaps not. But--but yours?” “Mine?” “Yes. Do YOU want me to go away?” He leaned forward in his chair and repeated earnestly: “Do you, Mary?” She looked at him and her eyes fell before the look in his. Her heart began to beat quickly and she glanced apprehensively toward the partly opened door. He rose and closed it. Then he came close to her. “Mary,” he said, earnestly, “do you know why this appeal of Dad's has hit me so very hard? Why it is going to be so mighty difficult to say yes and leave here? It isn't because I hate to give up Harvard. I do hate that, of course, but I'd do it in a minute for Dad. It isn't that. It's because I can't--I just can't think of leaving you. You have come to be--” She interrupted. “Please don't,” she begged. “Please!” He went on, unheeding: “You have come to mean about all there is in life for me,” he declared. “It isn't money or success or reputation I've been working and plugging for these last few months; it's just you. I didn't think so once--I used to think such things were just in books--but now I know. I love you, Mary.” Again she protested. “Oh, Crawford,” she begged, “please!” “No; you've got to hear me. It's true; I love you, and if you can care for me, I am going to marry you. Not now, of course; I've got my way to make first; but some day, if I live.” His teeth set in the determined fashion she had learned to know meant unswerving purpose. She looked up, saw the expression of his face, and for the instant forgot everything except her pride in him and her joy that she should have awakened such feelings. Then she remembered other things, things which she had spent many hours of many nights in debating and considering. As he bent toward her she evaded him and rose. “Don't, Crawford! Please!” she said again. “You mustn't say such things to me. It isn't right that you should.” He looked puzzled. “Why not?” he asked. “At any rate, right or wrong, I must say them, Mary. I've been holding them in for months and now I've just got to say them. I love you and I want to marry you. May I?” “Oh, no, Crawford! No! It is impossible.” “Impossible! Why? Is it--is it because you don't care for me? Don't you, Mary?” She did not answer. “Don't you?” he repeated. “Look at me! Can't you care, Mary?” She was silent. But when he took a step toward her she raised her hands in protest. “Please don't!” she pleaded. “No, you mustn't--we mustn't think--Oh, no, it is impossible!” “It isn't impossible. If you love me as I do you it is the only possible thing in the world. Listen, dear--” “Hush! I mustn't listen. Be sensible, Crawford! think! We are both so young. You are only beginning your studies. It will be years before you can--before you should consider marrying.” “But we can wait. I am willing to wait if you will only promise to wait for me. I'll work--HOW I'll work!--and--”