She, after her first look of amazed incredulity, felt backward with her hand for the support of the wall, and then gradually sank upon the seat, an expression, partly fear, overspreading her now colourless face. As Marsten went impetuously on, her head dropped upon her hands, and thus she remained while he spoke. A pause ensued, so deep and silent that Marsten, as he leaned his hand against the door-post, afraid to move forward or retreat, heard the distant girlish laughter, free from any thought of problems other than those of the schoolroom. He knew he should remember every trivial detail of the place all his life,--the broom that lay at his feet; the book which had fallen open-leaved upon the floor; even the title glittering in gold on the side, which sent no meaning to his mind except one word that caught his attention,--“Courtship” (“The Courtship of Miles Standish” was the whole phrase), and he wondered vaguely if the courtship had prospered. Rapidly as his wondering eye gathered up the accessories of the scene, it always returned to the bowed and silent figure before him, and something in the outlines of her drooping shoulders told him intuitively of a change--elusive, but real. His mind had been too much occupied with the hard realities of life to indulge in speculative analysis of any sort, but now it was uplifted, touched by the magic wand of love, and endowed with: a subtle perception unknown to him before. He saw that the girl, who, as a child, welcomed him, would, as a woman, bid him farewell. At last she slowly shook her head. “It cannot be--it cannot be!” she murmured. “Not now. I know that--I don’t ask that!” he cried, eagerly. “But--some time--some time?” The girl did not look up. “It can never be--never!” she said. “All I want is a chance--a fair chance. Don’t--oh, please don’t say ‘No’ or ‘Yes’ now! Your father is prejudiced against me, I know; not against me personally, I think, but because I am poor: it is only another expression of his great love for you. He knows what poverty is, and he wants to shield you from it. He is right, and if I am as poor two years from now, or four years, I shall not ask--” “Does my father know?” “Yes. I told him that night--the night you first spoke to me. That is why he is angry.” “Then that is why you--that is the reason--when you were in the garden----” “Yes, that is why I was afraid to have him find me there.”