And now it had come to _her_--love. Not that it was exactly unexpected: she had been waiting for her lover since she had put up her hair, of course. But to have him come like this--and such a lover! So rich--and he was such a grand, handsome young man, too! And she loved him. She loved him dearly. If only she dared say "yes"! No more poverty, no more loneliness, no more slaving at the beck and call of some hated employer. Oh, if she only dared! For one delirious moment Helen Barnet almost thought she did--dare. Then, bitterly, the thought of his position--and hers--rolled in upon her. Whatever else the last two wretched years had done for her, it had left her no illusions. She had no doubts as to her reception, as Burke Denby's wife, at the hands of Burke Denby's friends and relatives. And again, whatever the last two years had done for her, they had not robbed her of her pride. And the Barnets, away back in the little Vermont town, had been very proud. To Helen Barnet now, therefore, the picture of herself as Burke Denby's wife, flouted and frowned upon by Burke Denby's friends, was intolerable. Frightened and heartsick, she determined to beat a hasty retreat. It simply could not be. That was all. Very likely, anyway, Burke Denby had not been more than half in earnest himself. The bell rang then again from the drawing-room, and Helen went down to get the children. In the hall she met Burke Denby; but she only shook her head in answer to his low "Helen, when may I see you?" and hurried by without a word, her face averted. Three times again within the next twenty-four hours she pursued the same tactics, only to be brought up sharply at last against a peremptory "Helen, you shall let me talk to you a minute! Why do you persist in hiding behind those two rascally infants all the time, when you know that you have only to say the word, and you are as free as the air?" "But I must--that is--I can't say the word, Mr. Denby. Truly I can't!" His face fell a little. "What do you mean? You can't mean--you _can't_ mean--you won't--marry me?" She threw a hurried look about her. He had drawn her into the curtained bay window of the upper hallway, as she was passing on to the nursery. "Yes, I mean--that," she panted, trying to release her arm from his clasp. "Helen! Do you mean you don't _care_?" he demanded passionately. "Yes, yes--that's what I mean." She pulled again at her arm. "Helen, look at me. You can't look me straight in the eye and say you don't--_care_!" "Oh, yes, I can. I--I--" The telltale color flooded her face. With a choking little breath she turned her head quite away. "You do--you do! And you shall marry me!" breathed the youth, his lips almost brushing the soft hair against her ear. "No, no, Mr. Denby, I can't--I--_can't_!" With a supreme effort she wrenched herself free and fled down the hall.