"Tell me quickly," he said, "I think that your mother is not unwilling. Only let me hear the word 'Yes,' and the 'when' shall be left to you." "Pray listen, Mr. Van Hupfeldt," said Violet, bending over her knee, which she slung between her clasped fingers. "Let us reason together; let us understand each other better. I am not disposed to be unfriendly toward you--do not think that--nor even to reject your suit unconditionally. I owe you much, and I see that you are greatly in earnest; but I am not clear. Your motive seems to be philanthropic. You have said as much yourself, you know. Still, philanthropy is only warm; it is never hot to desperation; it never commits suicide in despair of doing good. That, then, is the first thing which I fail to understand in you. And, secondly, I do not grasp why you desire any closer relation to be set up between us for my happiness, when I assure you that nothing but the rehabilitation of my sister's name could lighten my unhappiness, and that, this once done, nothing further could possibly be done by any one to attach me more to life." "But I am older than you, and know better," answered Van Hupfeldt, seating himself beside her, speaking now more calmly. "You know nothing of the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. Travel alone would give you a new outlook. I should ever be inventing new pleasures and excitements for you. Sometimes, already, I lie awake at night, thinking them out. I am very rich, and all my wealth should be turned into one channel, to delight you. You know nothing of society in the States, of the brilliance and abandon of life across the Atlantic. And the Paris _beau monde_, with its charm and wit and easy joyousness, you know nothing yet of that. I should find the means to keep you constantly gay, to watch you in ever new phases, costumes, jewels--" The thought passed through Violet's mind: "He has distinguished manners, but a vulgar mind," and she said aloud: "So that is how you would wean me from sorrow, Mr. Van Hupfeldt? I should prefer a week of Dale Manor with my birds and flowers to a cycle of all that." "Then it shall be Dale Manor rather than 'all that,'" he agreed. "It shall be just as you would have it, if only you will be happy, and will give me a glance one day which means 'My happiness is due to you.' May I have another peep at the locket?" Violet took a locket from her neck, pressed a spring, and showed within a miniature in water-colors of the dead Gwen. She shivered a little. Though she was speaking of her sister, the man's sudden request jarred on her. "I like to look at it," said Van Hupfeldt, bending closer. "It reminds me of you--chiefly about the mouth and chin, about the dear little chin. She suffered, yes, she tasted sorrow, and since she suffered, you must not suffer, too. I kiss her instead of you, because she was like you."