“I shall always be proud to be your friend.” Curiously, in the growing light, with that strange, uncouth figure holding her hand, she felt more strongly moved than she had ever been before—yes, even Archie Traill's wooing had not touched her as this did. “I'm too young to know all that it has meant to you,” at last she said brokenly, “but I shall never, all my life through, forget you. I shall want, please, always to hear—” “To hear?” His lips twisted into a strange smile. “Ah, you must n 't want that.” “Why not? What are you going to do—now?” “To do?” He was still strangely smiling. “What is there for me to do? I am too old to struggle outside for a living. I have no means and I am fit for nothing but schoolmastering—” “Cannot you come back here—in spite of it all?” “Come back?” “Yes.” “Moy-Thompson wants me to come back. He thinks that I am so unimportant that—it does n't matter.” “You will—promise that you will!” “Ah, it is all so useless,” he said, shaking his head. “Before, when I had built up a kind of opinion of myself it was hard enough, but now, when that is all gone—” “Oh! I wonder if I can make you understand”—her eyes were flaming—“you must—you must. Don't you see that you 're being given such a chance! Think of the pluck of it—after all that has happened—to come back, knowing what they think of you, knowing what you think of yourself. Oh! I envy you. I believe the only thing we 're in the world for is to have courage—that answers everything—and some of us have such fat, easy lives that we've no chance at all. But you to come back with your teeth set, to build it all up again, to will it all back! Oh! it's splendid! And Archie and I will have our happy, ordinary existences—just going along—and you 'll be here doing the finest thing in the world. I'd change places with you to-morrow,” she magnificently ended up. “You see it like that?” he said slowly almost to himself. “Of course I see it like that. Why, I believe that's what all this term's been for—to bring to a head—to show you your great chance. That 's life—everything leading up to the one big thing—and now this is yours.” “My God!” he whispered, “If I could!” “You must,” she answered, “I believe in you—come back—fight it—win.” But he shook his head very slowly, very sadly. “No; I'm not the kind of man to do a thing like that. I 've had my spirit broken—this place has broken it.” “No; it is not. I know it is not. Here's your chance—take it.” “All these years,” he answered grimly, “twenty years—it's a long time for a man. I can't begin all over again.” “Twenty years are nothing. You 've never seen things straight as you see things now—It 's never been the same before.” He turned round and stared fiercely into her eyes. “Do you believe I could do it?” he said. “Of course I do.” “Win back respect—make them forget yesterday—go on with the old torture—” he shuddered and buried his face in his hands. “I believe in you,” she answered steadfastly.