“Why--why, yes, Bob,” she said, “perhaps I mean just that. I like you very much. Perhaps I may even--” “Esther, dearest--” “No. There must not be any ‘perhaps.’ There can’t be if you and I are to give up everything--and everybody--and think only of ourselves. And then--if I were absolutely sure I loved you enough to do that--I should--yes, then more than ever, I should have to think of you. If I came to be the cause of spoiling your life, your success with your painting and all that, I should never forgive myself.” “Nonsense! You spoil my life! You! Why, you will be the one who will make me sure to succeed. With you to work for, and to help me, I can do anything. Just give me the chance to prove it.... But there! I guess I see how it is. You don’t love me, after all.” “You mustn’t say that. Bob, you said just now that if Uncle Foster really cared for me he would want to do what would make me happiest. If you really care, as you say you do, you, too, will want me to be happy. How can I be, knowing that what I am doing is sure to make my uncle and your grandfather miserable, and might, unless we were both very sure, make you and me miserable later on? I can’t. You mustn’t ask me to.” He leaned back in the chair. For a moment he looked at her. Then he rose to his feet. “Yes,” he said, gloomily. “I see. You _have_ thought it over, haven’t you?... Well, all right. If the idea of marrying me makes you miserable I should be the last to coax you into doing it. You are right there, I guess.... Well, good-by.” She, too, rose. “No,” she said, hurriedly. “No, Bob, it isn’t good-by. That is, unless you want it to be.” “What is it, then?” “It is just--just wait. Wait and see. We needn’t--no, we mustn’t--consider ourselves engaged. We mustn’t even talk about that yet awhile between ourselves. If you are willing for us to go on as friends, good friends, and wait until--until we both _know_ the right thing to do, then--well, I should like that very much indeed. That _would_ make me happy.” He turned and caught her hand. “Esther,” he pleaded, earnestly, “before I answer that will you answer one question of mine, just one? You say you aren’t sure you love me?” “I said I was not sure I loved you enough to warrant the sacrifice both of us would have to make.” “I see. Well, just one more. Are you sure you don’t love me at all?” “No, Bob.” “You just want us to keep on being friends and wait until you are sure?” “Until I am sure one way or the other. Yes.” “All right. I will wait until we are both a hundred years old and have our wedding in the home for aged couples, if that’s necessary. The waiting will end in just one way, because that is the way it has got to end. You are worth waiting for, and I’ll be game. It’s a bargain.... And now what?” “Why, now sit down and we’ll talk about other things, just as we always have.”