"I will do so if you wish," he replied, "but it would hardly be wise. Think what tremendous business interests I represent, and it is of the first importance that I keep up." "Mr. Gregory is almost starving himself," said Miss Eulie, quietly. "I feel very anxious about him." "I represent a business of thousands where Mr. Gregory does hundreds," said Hunting, complacently. "I wish you represented something else," said Annie, bitterly, turning away. Her words and manner jostled him out of himself. A principle that seemed to him so sound and generally accepted appeared sordid and selfish calculation to Annie and she felt that Gregory represented infinitely greater riches in his self-denial for others. Hunting saw his blunder and instantly carried all his portion to those whom Annie had pointed out. But it was too late. He had shown his inner nature again in a way that repelled Annie's very soul. She turned sick at the thought of being bound to such a man. At first she had tried to excuse his helpless terror on the ship by thinking it a physical trait; but this was a moral trait. It gave a sudden insight into the cold, dark depths of his nature. Immediately after the disaster she had been too sick and bewildered to realize her situation. Her engagement was such an old and accepted fact that at first no thought of any other termination of it than by marriage entered her mind. Yet she already looked forward to it only as a duty, and she felt that her love for Hunting would be that of pity rather than trust and honor. But she was so truthful--so chained by her promises--that her engagement rested upon her like a solemn obligation. Again, it had been entered into under circumstances so tenderly sacred that even the wish to escape from it seemed like sacrilege. Still, she said, in intense bitterness, "Dear father was deceived also. We did not know him as we should." Yet she had nothing against Hunting, save a growing lack of congeniality and his cowardice at a time when few men could be heroic. In her strong sense of justice she felt that she should not condemn a man for an infirmity. But her cheeks tingled with shame as she remembered his weakness, and she felt that a Christian ought to have done a little better under any circumstances. When, in the event above described, she saw his hard, calculating spirit, her whole nature revolted from him almost in loathing. After a brief time she told him that she wanted to be alone, and he went away cursing his own folly. Miss Eulie, thinking she wished to sleep, also left her. "How can I marry him?" she groaned; "and yet how can I escape such an engagement?" When her aunt returned she found her sobbing as if her heart would break. "Why, Annie, dear, what is the matter?" she asked. "Don't ask me," she moaned, and buried her face in her pillow.