“But you don't--you don't want me to think that you meant--” “But I did, Annie. Do you remember I told you I thought I had a fair chance to be something in the world? Well, I'm nearer it than I thought, even then. There are a good many things I'm going to tell you some day,--not just yet,--but when you know them, you 'll understand why I've dared to talk this way. If I didn't believe I was going to be able to do for you all you could want, and more; if I didn't feel pretty sure I could help you to grow up away from this beach, to get into surroundings that will set you off as you deserve, I'd never have said a word. But I _can_ do these things, Annie. And if I could only know that I had the right to do them for you--I want to take you away from here.” “But I don't want to leave the beach.” “I know--I think I understand just how you feel. It's natural--you were born here--you've never seen anything else. But I can't stay here, and I can't go without you. I can't get along anywhere without you.” “But--” “What, Annie?” “You've got along very--very well, lately.” “No--that's just it, I haven't. My work has kept me out of town.” “Your work?” “Yes, I've--” “Mr. Beveridge, are you a student, or aren't you?” “I--” “Tell me, please. Some of the things you have said I don't understand.” “Well--no, I'm not.” “Then what you have said hasn't been true?” “No--some of it hasn't.” “And yet you--” She hesitated. “In a very little while, Annie,--maybe only a day or two,--some surprising things are going to happen. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I have been perfectly honest with you,--no, don't look at me that way; it is true,--and if I have misled you in one or two little things, it was only because I couldn't honestly tell you the whole truth yet. A few days more, and you shall know everything. I'm not a student. If I were, I could never offer you what I do offer you now.” He straightened up, his eyes lighted, and an eager note in his voice compelled her attention. “I have made a big strike, Annie, or so near it that it can't get away from me now. I have no earthly business to tell you this,--I never talked so to any one before,--but I have offered you everything, myself and all I have, and it would be poor business not to trust you with part of my secrets, too. I want you to know, because I trust you; and because I--I'm going to be able to spare you some disagreeable scenes.” He leaned forward. “Tell me, Annie, when does Dick Smiley come back?” She turned and looked up the Lake. His eyes followed hers; there, on the horizon, were the white sails of the _Merry Anne_. “Then I can tell you sooner than I thought--to-morrow. To-morrow night I 'll tell you everything. And maybe you will tell me too--everything. Will you, Annie? If I come for you to-morrow night and tell you all about myself, will you give me your answer?”