if you had fifteen hundred to offer Mr. Dawson, what then?"
"What then? Elaine, you're hard on me."
"How hard? I don't mean to be."
"To dangle before my face the things which I most want when you know they're not for me! Why, if I had fifteen hundred pounds, and could go to Dawson with a really serious proposition, the world would become another place; I should see my way to some sort of a career. I'd begin by earning a decent living; in no time I'd be getting together a home; in a year we might be married."
"A year? That's a long time."
He laughed.
"If I were Dawson's partner, with a really substantial share, we might be married right away."
"How soon, from now?"
"Elaine, what are you driving at? what is the use of our deceiving ourselves? I shall become Dawson's partner when pigs have wings, not before. What I have to do is bolt, while there still is time."
There was an interval of silence. They were standing very close together; but he kept his hands in his jacket pockets, as if he were resolved that he would not take her in his arms; while she stood, with downcast eyes, picking at the hem of her dress. When she spoke again it was almost in a whisper.
"Suppose I were able to find you the money?"
He smiled a smile of utter incredulity, as if her words were not worth considering.
"Suppose you were able to buy me the earth? Yesterday you told me that you had not enough money to buy yourself a pair of shoes; in fact, you said that your whole worldly wealth was represented by less than five shillings."
Once more she was still-oddly still.
"Herbert!"
The name was rather sighed than spoken. He saw that she was trembling. The appeal was irresistible. Again he put his arms about her and held her fast.
"Little lady, you've troubles enough of your own without worrying yourself about mine. You'll easily find better men than I am who'll be glad enough to worship the ground on which you stand, and then you'll recognize how much you owe me for running away, and leaving you an open field. The best thing that can happen to you is that I should go."
"I don't think so. I-I don't want you to go."
There was a catching in her breath.
"I don't want to go, but-I might find it awkward if I stayed."
"Herbert, I-I want to tell you something."
"What is it? By the sound of you it must be something very tremendous."
Her manner certainly was strange. As a rule she was a most self-possessed young woman; now she seemed to be able to do nothing but shiver and stammer. Not only was she hardly audible, but her words came from her one by one, as if she found it difficult to speak at all.
"What I-said to you-yesterday-wasn't true; I-said it to try you."
"What did you say to try me? Elaine, you're what I never thought you would be-you're mysterious."
"Suppose-you had fifteen hundred pounds-are you sure Mr. Dawson would make you a partner?"
"Well, I've never asked him, but I'm betting twopence."
"What would your income be if he did? You're not to laugh-answer my questions."
"Oh, I'll answer them; although, as I've already remarked, I've not the faintest notion what you're driving at; and that particular question is rather a wide one. If I were to buy a share I should try to do it on the understanding that some day I was to have the lot. I should probably commence with an income of between three and four hundred, which would become more later on; I dare say old Dawson is making a good thousand a year."
"A thousand? We might live on that."
"I should think we might; we might start on three hundred; I should like to have the chance."
"I'd be willing. And how much would it cost to furnish a house?"
"I've a few sticks in those rooms of mine."
"I know; I also know what kind of sticks they are-we shouldn't want them."
"There at last we are agreed. I suppose that to furnish the kind of house we should want to start with would make a hole in a couple of hundred-you probably know more about that sort of thing than I do. But, my dear Elaine, what is the use of our playing at fairy tales? You haven't five shillings in the world, and I've only just enough to take me clear away, and to keep the breath in my body while I have one look round."
Again there was an interval of silence, which was broken by her in a scarcely audible whisper.
"That-that was what I was trying to explain; what-I said to you yesterday was-to prove you."
"What particular thing did you say? I haven't a notion what you mean."
"Every girl likes to be-wooed for herself alone."
"Of course she does, and it's dead certain you'll never be wooed for anything but your own sweet self; I've known you, and all about you, long enough to be aware that you're no heiress."
"That's-that's where you're wrong."
"Wrong! Elaine, where's the joke?"
"I-I am an heiress; of course, in a very moderate way."
"What do you call an heiress? when yesterday you told me that you didn't possess five shillings!"
"That was said to try you."
Raising her eyes she looked him boldly in the face; there in the bright moonlight they could see each other almost as clearly as if it had been high noon.
"To try me? You're beyond me altogether; Elaine, are you pulling my leg?"
"I have about two thousand pounds."
"Two thousand pounds! Great Scott! where did you get it from? I didn't know there was so much money in all your family."
"There, again, you were mistaken. I got it from an aunt who died-not long ago."
"When did she die?"
"Oh, about six months ago."
"What was her name?"
"The same as mine-Harding."
"Was she an aunt by marriage?"
"She was my father's sister."
"A spinster? But I thought you told me that none of your father's relatives had two pennies to rub together."
"So I thought; but I was wrong. At any rate, when she died she left me about two thousand pounds."
"You've kept it pretty dark."
He was staring at her as if altogether amazed; she smiled at him as if amused by his surprise.
"I have; I've told nobody-not even Nora."
"Doesn't
