“Not now that is asking too much, Charlie, and I will promise nothing, because I cannot do it honestly,” she answered, so firmly that he knew appeal was useless. “Am I to go alone, then, leaving all I care for behind me?” “No, take your mother with you, and do your best to reunite your parents. You could not give yourself to a better task.” “She won't go without you.” “I think she will if you hold fast to your resolution. You won't give that up, I hope?” “No I must go somewhere, for I can't stay here, and it may as well be India, since that pleases Father,” answered Charlie doggedly. “It will more than you can imagine. Tell him all the truth, and see how glad he will be to help you, and how sincerely he will respect you for what you've done.” “If you respect me, I don't care much about the opinion of anyone else,” answered Charlie, clinging with a lover's pertinacity to the hope that was dearest. “I shall, if you go manfully away and do the duty you owe your father and yourself.” “And when I've done it, may I come back to be rewarded, Rose?” he asked, taking possession of the hand on his arm as if it was already his. “I wish I could say what you want me to. But how can I promise when I am not sure of anything? I don't love you as I ought, and perhaps I never shall so why persist in making me bind myself in this way? Be generous, Charlie, and don't ask it,” implored Rose, much afflicted by his persistence. “I thought you did love me it looked very like it a month ago, unless you have turned coquette, and I can't quite believe that,” he answered bitterly. “I was beginning to love you, but you made me afraid to go on,” murmured Rose, trying to tell the truth kindly. “That cursed custom! What can a man do when his hostess asks him to drink wine with her?” And Charlie looked as if he could have cursed himself even more heartily. “He can say 'no.'” “I can't.” “Ah, that's the trouble! You never learned to say it even to yourself, and now it is so hard, you want me to help you.” “And you won't.” “Yes, I will, by showing you that I can say it to myself, for your sake.” And Rose looked up with a face so full of tender sorrow he could not doubt the words which both reproached and comforted him. “My little saint! I don't deserve one half your goodness to me, but I will, and go away without one complaint to do my best, for your sake,” he cried, touched by her grief and stirred to emulation by the example of courage and integrity she tried to set him. Here Kitty and Steve bore down upon them; and, obeying the impulse to put care behind them, which makes it possible for young hearts to ache one minute and dance the next, Rose and Charlie banished their troubles, joined in the sport that soon turned the lonely little bay into a ballroom, and enjoyed the splendors of a winter sunset forgetful of separation and Calcutta. Chapter 15 ALAS FOR CHARLIE!