She smiled a little bitterly and withdrew her hand. She thought that perhaps the stock was worth more than she had supposed, and that Stone had been told so by Pixley. All her contempt for a man who could marry a woman for money rose hot within her. "Does he?" she asked, carelessly, not trusting herself to say more. "You have--it's not my business, I know," urged the sailor, "but I don't mind, if I can spare you any worry in the future--you have a lot of stock in the Belinda and Lone Star, haven't you?" "Yes," she replied. "It does not pay at all, does it?" he asked. She looked at him coldly as she responded, "I have not received any dividends this year." "But you spoke to me once as if you counted on this stock," he returned--"as if you thought that the dividends were only deferred." "Did I?" she said, distantly, as though the matter interested her very little. "That was why I took the liberty of getting the facts out of Tom Pixley," Stone continued. "It wasn't my business, I know, but, loving you as I did, I was afraid you might be bitterly disappointed." "No," she interrupted, "I am not likely to be bitterly disappointed." "Then you were aware already that the Belinda and Lone Star is a failure?" he asked. "I am very glad you were, for I was afraid I might be the bearer of bad news." She gazed at him in intense astonishment. "Do you mean to say that my stock is worthless?" she inquired. "I fear it is worth very little," he answered. "Tom Pixley told me he believed that they were going to abandon the workings, and that the interest on the mortgage had not been paid for two years." "So you knew all along that I was poor?" she asked. "Then why did you ask me to marry you?" John Stone looked at her for a moment in amazement, while his cheeks flamed. Then he rose to his feet and stood before her. "Did you suppose that I wanted to marry you for your money?" he said, making an obvious effort for self-control. "Yes," she answered, lowering her eyes. "And that is why I was going to accept you." She felt that the man was still staring at her, wholly unable to understand. "I am poor, very poor," she went on, hurriedly. "I don't know how I am going to live next month. I believed that you thought I was wealthy. It seemed to me a mean thing for a man to do, to marry a woman for her money, so I didn't mind deceiving you." He stood silently gazing at her for a minute, and she could not but think that a man was very slow to understand. Then he sat down again, and took her hand once more, and petted it. "You must have been sadly tried if you were willing to do a thing like that," he said, with infinite pity in his voice. "You poor child!" It was her turn then to be astonished, but she was swifter of comprehension. "Do you mean to say that you still want to marry me," she asked, looking him full in the face, "even after I have insulted you?"