"Because--because," said the Major eagerly, "you are a clever young fellow, Michael, and it may not be too late. You love the girl--you have said so--and the girl loves you. Think what it means Michael: don't lose such a golden chance. Is there any possible way in which you can explain your last interview to Florence, and--and win her back? I can assure you that if such a thing can be done, there is no step that I, on my part, will not take to help you." It was just at that moment that Michael Reid felt something new and strange stirring within him, something he had _never_ in his whole life felt before--a germ, the first germ of true nobility and true manliness. The stirring of this new something was very slight at first--so slight that it seemed to him that he had hardly felt it at all. Nevertheless, the colour of shame did dye his face. He rose from his chair, and said in a choking voice-- "Thank you for coming up, dad. I know you mean well. And now, you must be tired out. Shall we go and have something to eat?" "But you haven't answered me," said the astonished Major. "You allow the precious moments to fly. My idea is this: I thought it all out carefully in the train. Florence need have no reason to suppose that you know anything about her unexpected change of fortune. You can still approach her, as it were, in her state of poverty. Don't look at me like that, my boy. Men have done such things before. You told her once--" "Yes, father--yes," interrupted Michael, "I told Florence a very, very short time ago--a few days ago, in fact--that were she as poor as a church mouse it would be all the same to me." "You told her that, Michael, really?" "I did--I did!" said the young man; "and if you had only seen how her eyes shone and how she looked at me. She thought then that she was poor--poor as I have described. She believed in me then. I told her a lie, of course." "Your path is clear," said the Major, becoming so excited that he began to pace up and down the room. "You can easily explain away the impression you unfortunately made upon her on that miserable day. You can tell her that however great her poverty, she is all the world to you. Do it, Michael; do it!" "You want me to tell her another lie," said Michael Reid. The Major laid his hand, his shrivelled old hand, on Michael's firm, broad shoulder.