“But, indeed, I have been saying them ever since, and I shall say them as long as we both live. I chose you for my own dear love when I was a boy, and now that I see you as you are—oh, Margaret, surely you must love me a little, because you see how dear you have been to me all these years!” “But you know,” said Margaret, very gently, “that I must not let myself care for you. The old reasons remain still.” “I know of no reason in the world that should keep us apart. When I spoke to you before I was not my own master; but now I am free to decide for myself. Oh, my darling, if you love me we shall be so happy.” Margaret turned from his pleading eyes as she answered, “You have the duties and responsibilities of your position. You must not be unfaithful to them. And you must not marry one who is beneath you; and——” “Beneath me! Oh, Margaret, do not talk nonsense! I cannot bear it. The only inequality there is between you and me is that I am not half worthy of you, not half good enough for you. And you know already that I have my troubles—money troubles, and others—so that life is going to be a fight for me, as it is for most men. I am very much worried already. No man needs a good wife to help him more than I.” “I hope you will find one, my friend,” said Margaret, bravely. “No one would rejoice more heartily than I to see you happy and prosperous. You must look for some one who can help you financially as well as in every other way.” Dallington laughed a little bitterly. “My mother has been telling me to marry money. I scarcely expected Margaret Miller to give me the same advice. You are like the rest of the world after all, I suppose. Do you mean to marry money too, Margaret?” “Are you going to be cruel to me?” “No, dear; but neither must you be to me. Margaret, listen to me. I will not persecute you with unwelcome attentions; but I will not give you up until I discover that you are promised to another. You have grown so lovely and so sweet that, of course, you may have already learnt to care for some one else”—Margaret smiled—“but I do not think you have; and if you say No to-day, I shall ask you again. I have thought of you in every land to which I have gone. I have compared, or rather, contrasted—all women with you. Once, when I was ill, a strange feeling came over me that you were praying for me. It was my greatest hope when I returned to England that at last you would accept me. I have been very faithful to you, Margaret, because I love you—I love you! Darling, give me my answer now.”