“Yes, I’m glad you told me that; very glad. Please keep right on liking me, if you can. And I――” he turned, facing her with a sudden rigid setting of his jaws and a narrowing of his dark gray eyes, “I’m going to keep on loving you, you know,” he said almost fiercely. “You can’t help that. And you needn’t forbid me,” he added, as she made a gesture of dissent. “It’s beyond you. And I’m not going to stop hoping until you’re――married to some one else. You can’t forbid that, either!” “But I must! You mustn’t! Please――please――――” “Do you mean that you could never care for me――under any circumstances――no matter what happened?” “I――oh, how can I tell what I could do or might do?” she cried. “Only――I feel that it is hopeless――useless!” “Then――then there is some one else, after all?” he asked dully. “You have been very patient and kind to me,” she replied, “and I will answer that, although you have no right――――” “I know,” he interrupted. “I have no right. Don’t answer it!” “I shall; and――there is no one else; no one at all.” Within the house they heard Phillip’s voice calling them. “Thank you,” said John. “And now, will you do me one more favour! Will you promise that should you ever grow to care for me you will tell me?” “Tell you!” she repeated in surprise. “But how could I do that?” “You could.” “But if I ever did care, I think you’d know it without my telling you,” she said with a little smile. He shook his head. “I might not. I should be afraid to risk it again.” “But you――you might have grown to――not to care,” she objected. Again he shook his head. “No. I shall keep on caring. You are certain that you will never love me; so the risk is slight. Will you take it? Will you promise?” “Hello, you lazy folks!” Phillip stood laughing out upon them from the doorway. “Didn’t you hear me yelling like the Bull of――What-do-you-call-it?” “We wanted to make you hunt us, Phil,” answered Margaret lightly. “Exercise is beneficial, dear.” “Exercise! Well, that sounds well coming from a person who has been sitting on the porch all morning,” Phillip replied scathingly. Margaret arose and moved toward the door. John followed her. Phillip observed them speculatively. “Great Scott!” he told himself, “I believe John’s been making love to Margey! Or else they’ve had a quarrel.” At the doorway John laid his hand lightly on Margaret’s arm. She stopped on the threshold and turned to him. “You promise?” he asked softly. She hesitated and dropped her eyes. Then: “Yes,” she answered. He stood and watched her lay aside her cape and disappear into the drawing-room. When he turned again toward Phillip he heard the beat of hoofs on the drive. “Here comes Colonel Brownell,” said Phillip. The Colonel trotted up to the portico and bowed courteously, holding out a buff-coloured envelope. “Morning, Phil; morning, Mr. North. A telegram for you, sir. Saw it in the post-office, sir, and took the liberty of fetching it along to you.”