"Duty is a hard word, Miss Heth," said Canning. "A thousand times I've wished that I wasn't an only son--my family's one hopeful. But I am, alas.... And hence the little rest-cure...." "Yes, it's hard," she answered. And instead of going on as some girls would, "Don't you think you could _possibly_ stay a little longer?"--she added, in tones of comforting: "But of course you will enjoy Florida immensely. You know you'll find agreeable people, and plenty of fun--" "Of course! It is my particular delight," said Canning, in his hoarsened voice, "to stay in an attractive place just long enough to fall in love with it, and then be whipped away like a naughty schoolboy." Carlisle slowly drew off her glove. "I'm glad you've liked it here," said she.... "Shall you stop again, on your way back home?" The man's eyes turned from the fire full upon her face. His voice changed a little. "What do you think?" "I only know what I hope," said she; and her gold-and-black lashes fell. The firelight played upon her half-averted face, twisted shadows into the sheen of her hair, incarnadined her smooth cheek. Whiter and softer than swan's down gleamed her round bare shoulder, her perfect neck. Canning's blood moved. He turned more fully and leaned toward her, his elbow on her chair-arm. "Could you think that all these happy days with you have meant so little to me?... You've a poor opinion of me, indeed. Didn't I say in the beginning that you did not know how to be kind?" At his tone, the girl's breath came faster. She sat in silence pulling her long gloves between slim little hands. "You are hard, Miss Heth," said Canning, slowly. And he added, with that touch of unconscious pride with which he always spoke of the Cannings, their position and serious responsibilities in the world: "When I compel myself to think of my duty toward my father and my family, I make sacrifices which ought, I think, to win me your approval. I've a place to fill some day.... But since you ask, I shall think also of myself. I shall come again to the old Payne fort." She gave him a look which said that she was not really unkind. And Canning immediately possessed her ungloved hand in both of his. Her heart flattered at his touch; her hand seemed to feel that this indeed was where it belonged; but, on the whole, training and intuition appeared to indicate a contrary view. There was a moment of stillness, of acquiescence, in which she became aware that he bent nearer. And then Carlisle rose, with a natural air, taking the hand along with her, incidentally as it were. Standing by the fire, looking down into it, she said: "The town will be empty without you." Behind her, Canning had risen too, with a sort of sharpness. He was silent. And then it was borne in upon her that the proud young man was moving toward his trappings, to go.... "Your friendly words are much appreciated," said he, smiling. "But I observe that I've overstayed horribly."