“Yes, if that brings the most money,” Louie answered. “It will take years to pay the debts, and I may be old—thirty perhaps—before it is done. You cannot wait all that time, and it is better to end the relations between us now. They have always been rather peculiar, and I have never liked the secrecy which put me in a false position. Hush!” she continued, as she saw how white Herbert turned as he tried to speak. “I do not say you have not loved me, but the chain has fretted you at times, and fettered your actions, as it has mine; and it is better for us both to be free—friends always, but free. There will then be no more fear of your father; and if you wish to call upon me sometimes, you will not have to come by stealth as if afraid some one would know it. Don’t interrupt me, please,” she continued, warming up to the subject. “I have seen it, and felt it, and it has hurt me a little; and only the belief that you really loved me has kept me from telling you that I must be one thing or the other—either acknowledged as your promised wife, or nothing more to you than a friend. Father’s failure has precipitated matters, and I give you your freedom, and your ring. I will get it.” She left the room, while Herbert sat unable to realize what had befallen him, or that Louie could mean what she said. He could hear her moving in the chamber overhead, but he could not see her holding the ring to the light, and kissing it once as she had never kissed him. She did not cry, but was dangerously near it when she at last returned to the room where Herbert was walking up and down, nervous and excited, and shaking as if he were cold. “Here it is,” she said, offering it to him. “I have never worn it except in my room, where it seemed a mockery rather than a symbol of the tie between us. Take it,” she persisted, as he made no sign that he heard her. “Louie,” he began, in a choking voice. “You must not cast me off like this. It is very sudden, and you don’t give me time to think. I have been a coward, I’ll admit, but try me again. There is some manhood in me, although I admit I have not shown much since your father’s failure. I was a cad not to join you to-night, but upon my soul I believe you did better alone. Try me again, I will tell father everything. I will, upon my word, and every one shall know you are to be my wife. Try me, Louie.” Louie shook her head. With every step she had taken she had felt herself growing lighter and happier, with a sense of freedom, and Herbert’s persuasive words did not move her. “You can’t wait ten or twenty years for me, and you cannot marry the daughter of a man disgraced as my father is. In a short time you will see it as I do. You couldn’t speak for father to-night, and you surely could not identify yourself with him as his son-in-law if the worst should happen, although in your excitement you think you can.”