“It’s going to be next month. His name’s Knowlton—Robert Underwood Knowlton—he’s a lawyer, and the dearest fellow that ever was. I wish you could meet him. I know you’d like him,” she went on, rapidly. Then she stopped suddenly and looked at him. “See here, Allan,” she said, her hand on his arm. “Don’t look like that. It’s not I you’re in love with—you’re not in love with anybody. You never have been with me. You happened to meet me when you were lonely, and you gave me a little niche in your heart. But you don’t love me—that’s not what love is. I’m not at all the kind of woman you imagined—you’ve seen that already. Now you mustn’t be foolish—shake hands, like a brother.” He looked down into her face, and suddenly it seemed as though a veil were swept away, and he saw that she was right. It wasn’t love he felt for her—it was only affection. Her eyes, watching him anxiously, brightened as she saw the change in his face. “You’re the dearest girl that ever was,” he said, clasping her hand, “and the bravest. I’m not sure that I’m not falling in love with you now.” “No, you’re not!” she cried, patting him on the arm. “I knew I was right!” she added, her face beaming. “You’ve made me so happy—for I couldn’t help worrying a little, sometimes. Will you come to the wedding, if I ask you?” “Ask me and see,” he retorted, laughing. “Miss Elizabeth Heywood requests the favour of Mr. Allan West’s attendance at her wedding, February 16th, at two o’clock P. M. R. S. V. P.” “Mr. Allan West acknowledges the receipt of Miss Heywood’s kind invitation and accepts with pleasure.” “Good!” she cried, clapping her hands. “Then you’ll meet Bob and you’ll see what a lucky girl I am.” “I think I’ll be more apt to see what a lucky fellow he is.” “Well, we’re both lucky, and we’re going to be very, very happy.” “I hope you will,” he said, heartily. “Thank you, Allan; I know you do. And now here comes my car. Stop it for me. Good-bye,” she added, as the car came to a stop opposite them. “And I can’t tell you how glad I am I met you this afternoon. Good-bye!” She waved her hand to him from the platform, and was gone. He stood for a moment, watching the car, then turned slowly back toward the museum. He, also, was glad that he had met Betty Heywood—glad that she had been brave enough and clear-sighted enough to set him right with her and with the world. And yet he realized dimly that there was suddenly a place vacant in his heart. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER X IN THE SWITCH TOWER