He had not found the slightest relief from the embarrassing ignorance that enshrouded him. The girl's utter lack of coquetry, and her depth of feeling, made his position even more complex than it might otherwise have been. “As you must know, I am talking in the dark,” he continued after a minute, “but this much I will venture to assert, that no act of mine could be a sacrifice which would put my life in closer touch with yours; for although it was only yesterday that we met for the first time, I love you; and I loved you, Dorothy, from the instant I first caught sight of you at the station. I do not pretend to explain this, but have felt an overpowering passion from that moment.” “And you will not think me unmaidenly, Paul, if I say the same to you?” She made no effort to conceal her feelings, and they sat murmuring sweet things into each other's ears until a green bird came fluttering through the air, and lighting upon a bough just above their heads, screamed: “Dorothy! Dorothy!” It was a parrot, and there was something so uncanny in its sudden appearance that Paul started: “He seems to be your chaperone!” he observed. “He is my mascot!” cried Dorothy. “If it were not for his company, I fear I should go mad. I am so lonely, Paul, you can not understand it.” “Have you no neighbors?” he inquired. “None within miles; and we live such a strange isolated life that people are afraid of us.” Paul thought of the stage driver, and his look of horror on hearing where he was going. “I can't understand why people should be afraid of you simply because you live alone,” he said. “For my part, I think your life here is most interesting. But you have not told me how I can help you.” “Nor can I yet,” she answered. “There is a way, of course, but I can not consent to so great a sacrifice from you; at least, not at present.” “And would it compel me to leave you?” “No; it would compel you to be with me always.” “And have you so little faith in me as to call that a sacrifice? I did flatter myself that you believed what I told you just now.” “But, Paul, you do not know me. Wait until you do. Then, perhaps, you will change your mind.” She spoke with emphasis and a strange depth of feeling, and he wondered what she meant. “I could never change, Dorothy,” he replied with fervor, “unless you wished it; but if you did, do you know I believe it would not be in your power to reverse the bewildering spell you have wrought, and make me hate you, for never before have I felt anything approaching this strange sudden infatuation. But do not keep me in suspense; tell me, I pray, what is this mystery in your life which you think would change my feelings toward you?” “I belong nowhere. I have no friend in all the wide world,” she answered bitterly. “You have forgotten Ah Ben,” suggested Paul. She did not answer, but continued stroking the parrot which had lighted upon her shoulder, demanding her caresses with numerous mutterings.