"But you’ve promised me that over and over again, ’Dolph! How many times"—she unconsciously shook him as she spoke, "how many times do you suppose you have promised me that you wouldn’t drink and wouldn’t play—that you’d give up going about with that set—that you’d leave it altogether? How many, many times?" she reiterated, with a pathetic note of indignation. "A fellow can’t quit cold like that," I barely heard the lad muttering—"got to have some friends!" "Friends!" Alicia cried, in a voice of bitter exasperation. "Do you call Billy Banning and Tertius Cullen and Arthur Bloodgood friends? They’re your worst enemies—almost criminals!" And on a sudden I realized that I was an eavesdropper and a flush of shame heated my cheeks. I was about to make a sound but my throat was dry and no sound came. "Think what it would mean," took up Alicia, "if Uncle Ranny found it out—" and I could not choose but listen—"all that he has been to us—father and mother and everything else. Everything in the world he has given up for us," she cried with quivering lips, her voice thinning with passionate anguish. "His comfort, his leisure, his whole life he has sacrificed with a smile for us—for you and Jimmie and Laura and—and even me! Oh, ’Dolph, ’Dolph—do you suppose there are many such men in the world? And you want to break his heart by drinking and gambling and Heaven knows what else it might lead to?" I write these words with shame. I had no business to hear them. I gathered my arrested forces to compel myself to move away, when I heard the boy’s bass mutter: "I know I’m rotten, ’Licia—rotten as they make ’em—but give me another chance, ’Licia—just one more, sweetheart—I tell you it’s—" "Yes," was the bitter interruption, "you made me those promises when I said I would be engaged to you—what have they amounted to? It would have broken his heart if it had come out then. I—I promised the Dean for you—that time—" her voice charged with emotion so she could scarcely speak—"and now—" "But wait—wait, ’Licia," the boy suddenly drew her to him with passionate earnestness by both hands. "I give you my word of honor this time it’s different. It isn’t for myself—yes, it is, though—but it isn’t for what you mean—not for anything you can think of. It is for a Purpose," he explained with great emphasis—"a Purpose—I can’t tell you—but—" "But you must tell me," insisted Alicia, searching his eyes tremulously. "Can’t—I can’t!" he shook his head vehemently. "’Licia, darling, be good to me. I must have it. If I only had about fifty dollars! I could win it—I know—I am awfully good at poker—I can bluff the lot of ’em. But I’ve got to have ten to start—and I promise, word of honor, I’ll never play again—word of honor, ’Licia."