She looked up then, and cried out passionately. "O Will, Will, if only there was anything in all this world I could do to make it up to you!" "There is nothing to make up," he said. "I would rather have pain from you than pleasure from any one else. But there _is_ something that you can do; this: not to feel my love a burden laid upon you, an annoyance or trespass, an anxiety or self-reproach--or anything that will make you want to get rid of it," he finished, smiling again; "and to let me give you all I wish, on the condition that I ask no return. And if, in a few years, I should ask to come and live near you, and be good friends--may I? It would be hard," he urged, less quietly, "that I should have to lose your friendship, when I ask nothing more. Would you take away the crumbs from me, just because I have lost the loaf?" "Is that best, Will?" she began, anxious and hesitating. "Oh, I mean for you. It isn't _possible_ that you can always--think of me--so. There is no reason. If you do not see me--somebody else--" "Have I been seeing you these dozen years?" he said, very gently. "You may trust me to know what is best for me. Why think--think a moment, dear friend, and you will understand. You, of all people, _can_ understand the plane I want you to take me on." Winifred's eyes kindled and her face flushed. "I see. I _do_ understand. I can meet you on your own plane, and I can trust your friendship and you. I am not afraid to have you come--after a year or two." "Thank you," he said, shaken as he had not been. "It is because you are very noble that any good can come out of this harm," she went on, with an eloquent tremor in her voice. "I can see that before very long I shall be, as you said, willing--glad--for so great a gift--only always sorry for your sake. I am very grateful _now_--I cannot tell you how great a thing I think it is--from such a man as you." They had both become embarrassed and shy now, and both stood silent to recover their ease. "You leave by this evening's train?" he asked in a minute. "Yes." "Then this is good-by." "For a while." They moved together to the door. As they reached it, Will turned and held out his hand, with an attempt at a smile. They stood a few moments with hands clasped. Winifred's downcast eyes were filling. "Good-by, Winifred," he said. "Good-by," she answered, faintly. A minute later she had thrown herself sobbing on her bed, and he was walking down the street.