So he told her the whole story just as we know it, dear, long-suffering reader, and she listened very attentively and looked bewitchingly sympathetic with the firelight on her face; and Phillip warmed to his narrative and did it full justice. Yet when he had finished Betty’s face became terribly severe. “And pray what right,” she demanded, “had you to think we wouldn’t make you just as welcome even if you were poor? A fine opinion you must have formed of us! When, I should like to know, has any of us given you the right to――to think such things about us?” “Never,” he replied earnestly. “I was all wrong, Betty; I see that now. But, don’t you see, Betty, at first――I didn’t know! It was so sudden and unexpected. I’d never been poor before. It was so kind of strange; and some people _do_ care, you know!” “They’re not nice people, then,” answered Betty stoutly. “Anyhow, you might have known that I―――― And after I had sent you that photograph, Phil!” “I’m mighty sorry, Betty,” he said contritely. “I won’t do it again――ever!” “I should hope not!” After a silence she said: “I’m sorry you didn’t like it――the photograph, I mean.” “Like it! I did like it, Betty! I――I worshiped it!” “Oh!” “I――I carried it in my pocket for days and days!” “Then I don’t see why――you want to bring it back.” Phillip gasped and stared in amazement. “I don’t!” he finally ejaculated. “Oh!” said Betty again. “You told me to!” he cried. Betty looked scornful. “What if I did? I didn’t suppose you were going to do it!” “Betty!” “It only shows that you don’t want to keep it!” “But――Betty――――” “And you said that there were too many in circulation!” “Well――and there are, too!” “They’re not!” “There are!” he repeated doggedly. “Only――one!” “One! You said――you said――――” Betty nodded unembarrassedly. “Yes; but that was just――just because you’d been mean to me.” “Then they’re not, Betty? You didn’t send them all round everywhere at Christmas?” “I sent only one,” answered Betty, “and that one to a――a person who doesn’t care for it. And I had it taken specially, and went to whole heaps of bother, and there were seven negatives, and I sat three times and――and it was all wasted!” Betty’s voice was vibrant with grief. “Please, will you hand it to me?” she asked with a supreme effort to be brave. She looked over the table; the package was gone. Phillip’s fingers were tremblingly buttoning up his coat. “No,” answered he; “I won’t, Betty!” He had covered the intervening space and was kneeling at her side, her hands grasped tightly. “It’s mine; I’m going to keep it forever! And, oh, Betty, you do care, don’t you?” “Please――――” whispered Betty in dismay. “And you don’t mind if I’m poor? And you’ll marry me, Betty?” He was covering her hands with kisses. “I’m going to study very hard, dear,” he went on breathlessly, exultantly. “And I’ll make money――lots of it――somehow, you know! You will marry me, Betty? Dear, darling Betty!” “Perhaps――some day,” murmured Betty.