The girl had said that she was going down the hill, too, and would accompany him; but Dorris knew that she meant the hill on which they were standing, not the one he referred to. He referred to a hill as famous as wickedness, and known in every house because of its open doors to welcome back some straggler from the noisy crowd travelling down the famous hill; but he thought that should a woman like Annie Benton consent to undertake the journey with him, he would change his course, and travel the other way, in spite of everything. "Did I do wrong in asking you to wait for me?" she inquired, after they had walked awhile in silence. "Yes," he answered, "because it pleased me. Be very careful to do nothing which pleases me, for I am not accustomed to it, and the novelty may cause me to forget the vow I have made. A man long accustomed to darkness is very fond of the light. What do you think of me, anyway?" "What a strange question!" the girl said, turning to look at him. "Be as frank with me as I was with you. What do you think of me?" The girl thought the matter over for a while, and replied,-- "If I should answer you frankly, I should please you; and you have warned me against that." Dorris was amused at the reply, and laughed awhile to himself. "I didn't think of that," he said, though he probably had thought of it, and hoped that her reply would be what it was. "I am glad to hear that I am not repugnant to you, though. It will be a comfort to me to know, now that my dream has come true, that the subject of it does not regard me with distrust or aversion. I am glad, too, that after dreaming of the sunshine so long, it is not a disappointment. In my loneliness hereafter that circumstance will be a satisfaction, and it will be a pleasure to believe that the sunshine was brighter because of my brief stay in it. I can forget some of the darkness around me in future, in thinking of these two circumstances." They had reached Thompson Benton's gate by this time, and, the invitation having been extended, Dorris walked into the house. The master was not due for an hour, so Dorris remained until he came, excusing himself by the reflection that he would never see the girl again, and that he was entitled to this pleasure because of the sacrifice he had resolved to make.