"You'd better not now." "Yes, I'm going to, now. I've got to. Then I'll never say another word--I'll go away, and never say another word." Thomas got up, and brought his chair close to Charlotte's. "Don't move away," he pleaded; "let me sit here near you once--I never shall again. I'm going to tell you, Charlotte. I used to look across at you sitting in the meeting-house, Sabbath days, when I was a boy, and think you were the handsomest girl I ever saw. Then I did try to go with you once before I went to college; perhaps you didn't know that I meant anything, but I did. Barney was in the way then a little, but I didn't think much of it. I didn't know that he really meant to go with you. You let me go home with you two or three times--perhaps you remember." Charlotte nodded. "I never forgot," said Thomas Payne. "Well, father found it out, and he had a talk with me. He made me promise to wait till I got through college before I said anything to you; he was doing a good deal for me, you know. So I waited, and the first thing I knew, when I came home, they said Barney Thayer was waiting on you, and I thought it was all settled and there was nothing more to be done. I made up my mind to bear it like a man and make the best of it, and I did. But this spring when I was through college, and that happened betwixt you and Barney, when he--didn't come back to you, and you didn't seem to mind so much, I couldn't help having a little hope. I waited and kept thinking he'd make up with you, but he didn't, and I knew how determined he was. Then finally I began to make a few advances, but--well, it's all over now, Charlotte. There's only one thing I'd like to ask: if I hadn't waited, as I promised father, would it have made any difference? Did you always like Barney Thayer?" "Yes; it wouldn't have made any difference," Charlotte said. There were tears in her eyes. Thomas Payne arose. "Then that is all," said he. "I never had any chance, if I had only known. I've got nothing more to say. I want to thank you for asking me to come here to-night and telling me. It was a good deal kinder than to let me keep on coming. That would have been rather hard on a fellow." Thomas Payne fairly laughed, although his handsome face was white. "I hope it will all come right betwixt you and Barney, Charlotte," he said, "and don't you worry about me, I shall get on. I'll own this seems a little harder than it was before, but I shall get on." Thomas brushed his bell hat carefully with his cambric handkerchief, and stowed it under his arm. "Good-bye, Charlotte," said he, in his old gay voice; "when you ask me, I'll come and dance at your wedding." Charlotte got up, trembling. Thomas reached out his hand and touched her smooth fair head softly. "I never touched you nor kissed you, except in games like that Copenhagen to-day," said he; "but I've thought of it a good many times."