"Yes--no," I cried, getting up and walking up and down the room. "He would not take the money; he would be a great deal too proud." "Would not take the money, Antony? Why?" "Because he would know that it came from you." "And knowing that the money came from me, Antony, would he not take it?" "No, I am sure he would not." "Why?" "Because--because--Miss Carr, should you be angry with me if I told you the truth?" She paused again, some minutes, before she replied softly, but in so strange a tone: "No, Antony. How could I?" "Because, Miss Carr, I am sure he loves you: and he would think it lowered him in your eyes." She turned upon me a look that seemed hot with anger, but the next moment she had turned her face away, and I could see that her bosom was heaving with suppressed emotion. A great struggle was evidently going on within her breast, and it was some time before she could master it. At last, however, she turned to me a face that was deadly pale, and there was something very stern in her looks as she said to me: "Antony, we have been separated for a year, but can you speak to me with the same boyish truth and candour as of old, in the spirit taught you, my dear boy, by the father and mother you have lost?" "Oh yes, Miss Carr," I said frankly, as I laid my hand in hers, and looked in her beautiful eyes. "Yes, Antony, you can," she said softly. "Tell me, then, has Mr Hallett ever dared to say such a thing as--as that to you?" "Never, Miss Carr." "Has--has my name been made the subject of conversation amongst your friends?" "Never, Miss Carr." "Or been coupled with his?" "Oh! no, no," I cried, "never. Mr Hallett has rarely mentioned your name." "Then how can you--how can you dare to make such an assertion as you did?" "I don't know," I replied thoughtfully. "I could not tell you how it is, but I am sure he does love you as much as I do, Miss Carr." "I believe you do, Antony," she said, bending forward and kissing my forehead. "But, you foolish boy, drive that other notion from your head, and if you do love me, Antony--and I would have you love me, my boy, as dearly as you loved her who has gone--never speak to your dearest friend of our words to-night." "Oh, you may trust me for that," I said proudly. "I do trust you, Antony, and I see now that your ideas are right about the money. Still, I should like you to help your friend." "So should I," I said; and I sat thinking dreamily over the matter, being intensely desirous of helping Hallett, till it was time to go, when an idea occurred to me which I proposed to Miss Carr, one which she gladly accepted, joining eagerly in what was, perhaps, a deception, but one most truly and kindly meant. CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. AN INVITATION.