The smile went from his lips and from his eyes. Whitehouse, so near to Mother and Dad, was impossible. Flight must take them, and keep them, very far from here. Before he could speak it was this very fact of proximity to home that she adduced in further persuasion. "And think," she cried, "how near we'd be to Mother and Dad! Jus' an hour in the train. I could see them every week. I expect you've thought they'd live with us, you being so rich. But they never would, you know. Dad would never leave his shop, one thing; and another, Mother's often said when we've talked about me getting married one day, that a girl ought to have a home of her own and not have her mother tied round her neck. Why, this would be perfect, this darling Whitehouse, and so close to them! Oh, if you really can, Arthur!" Here was the telling of it. "I can't," he said. "We can't live here, Essie." She detected something amiss in his tone. There went out of her face the fond and smiling entreaty expressive of her plea. She said: "Arthur, why?" To one of the windows there was a broad window-seat, and he took her to it. "Let's sit down here, Essie." She said: "Oh, whatever is it, dear?" He took her hand. "It's this. What I told your father and mother about going by the five o'clock train is true. I am going. It's nearly four now. It's time to be starting back. I am going. Look, here's my ticket." Wonderingly she looked at it, and at him. "Oh, you can't be?" "I am. There's the ticket. Essie, look. Here's yours." She almost laughed. She looked at his face and the impulse was checked. But she said half-laughingly, her brows prettily puckered: "Oh, whatever? Is it a game, dear, you're having?" "No, it's no game. It's very serious. I'm going--for good. Not coming back--ever." She made a little distressful motion with her hands. "Oh, Arthur, don't go on so, dear. Whatever can you mean?" "I mean just what I say. I'm going--at five o'clock." He stopped and looked intently into her wondering, her something shadowed, eyes. He said: "Essie, are you coming with me?" This time she laughed. It obviously was a game! A little ring of her clear and merry laughter, and her eyes that always sparkled, that had been shadowed, sparkling anew. "Oh, if you oughtn't to be an actor on the stage! If you didn't half frighten me, though!" and she laughed again. "Why, how could I come? Why, we're not married yet!" Now! He put an arm about her and drew her to him. "Don't let me frighten you, Essie. Trust me. Trust me. Come with me, Essie. I'll take care of you. I'll love you always. You'll never regret it--not a moment. You know what I can do for you--everything you want. You know how happy we'll be--happy, happy."