when she spoke again a quick observer might have noticed that in her voice there was a new intonation.

"two hundred pounds is not such a very large sum."

"isn't it? i'm glad you think so. it's a large sum to me; a lot too large. i've about as much chance of getting it as i have of getting the moon. and if i did get it i shouldn't be much forwarder so far as marriage is concerned. what's the use of my talking of marrying when i hardly earn enough to buy myself bread and cheese? and it's as certain as anything can be that in this place i never shall earn enough."

"why not?"

"for one reason, if for no other, because in this place there's only room for one solicitor; and old dawson's that one. he's got all the business that's worth having; and, what's more, he'll keep it. now if i could buy old dawson out--i happen to know that he's made what he considers pile enough for him, and would be quite willing to retire; or even if i could buy a share in his business, he might be willing to sell that; then it might be a case of talking; but as it is, so far as i'm concerned, marriage is off."

"how much would be wanted?"

"if i could lay my hands on a thousand, or fifteen hundred pounds in cash, then i might go to dawson and make a proposal; but as i never shall be able to lay my hands on it, it would be better for both of us if we talked sense; that's what i've come for, to talk sense."

"does all this mean that you've found out that you made a mistake when you told me that you loved me?"

"it means the exact opposite; i've found out that i love you a good deal more than i thought i did. if i didn't love you i might be disposed to behave like a cad, and marry you out of hand; but as i do love you i'm not taking any chances."

"i don't quite follow your reasoning."

"don't you? it's clear enough to me. i'm in a hole, and because i love you i'm not going to drag you in as well."

"but suppose i should like to be dragged?"

"you don't understand, or you wouldn't talk like that."

"shouldn't i? don't be too certain. you are sure you love me?"

"i love you more than i thought i could love any one, and that's the mischief."

"is it? i don't agree; because, you see, i love you."

"it's no good; i wish you didn't."

"do you? then i don't. if you wanted me to, i'd marry you to-morrow."

"elaine!" then he did take her in his arms, and he kissed her. and she kissed him. suddenly he put her from him. "don't! for god's sake, don't! elaine, don't you tempt me! i'm not much of a chap, and i'm not much of a hand at resisting temptation--there's frankness for you!--and i want to keep straight where you're concerned. i'll make a clean breast of it; the only way i can see out of the mess i'm in is to make a bolt for it, and i'm going to bolt; there you have it. i've come up here to say good-bye."

"good-bye?"

her voice was tremulous.

"if ever i come to any good, which isn't very probable, you'll hear from me; you'll never hear from me if i don't; so i'm afraid that this is going to be very near a case of farewell for ever."

"you say two hundred pounds will get you out of that mess you're in?"

"about that; i dare say i could manage with less if it was ready money. but what's the use of talking? i don't propose to rob a bank, and that's the only way i ever could get it."

"and 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 miss lindsay know?"

"she doesn't. nobody knows--except you; and i shall be obliged by your respecting my confidence."

"i'll respect your confidence; but--of all the queer starts! what fibs you've told!"

"i know i've told some; in a position like mine, one had to. but i'd made up my mind that you shouldn't know i had money, and--you didn't know."

"i certainly did not; i scarcely realize it now; i wonder if you're joking."

"no, i'm not joking."

she shook her pretty head, with a grave little smile. her face looked white in the moonshine.

"can you touch the capital? is it in the hands of trustees? or do you only have the income?"

"it is not in the hands of trustees; it is entirely at my own disposal; i can get it when i want."

"all of it?"

"all of it."

he drew a long breath, as if moved by some new and sudden strength of feeling.

"can you--can you get two hundred pounds before next tuesday?"

"i can, and i will--if you want it. you are sure you want it?"

"elaine, if--if you will i'll--i'll never forget it."

"you shall have it on monday if you like." he covered his face with his hands, seeming to be shaken by the stress of a great emotion. she drew closer to him, as if frightened; her voice trembled. "herbert, what--what is wrong?"

uncovering his face, clenching his fists, he stared straight in front of him, resolution in his eyes.

"nothing now--nothing!--and there never shall be anything again!--thank-god. thank god! considering what sort of mess it was that i was in, i didn't dare to ask god to help me out of it; but he's done it without my asking him. elaine, upon my word i believe it's true that god moves in a mysterious way." elaine, hiding her face against his shoulder, burst into tears, which surprised him more than anything which had gone before. she was not a girl who cries easily, yet now she was shaken by her sobs. putting his arms about her, he strove to comfort her, showering on her endearing epithets. "my sweet, my dear, my darling, what troubles you? don't you--don't you want me to have the money? you have only to say so; i shan't mind."

"of course i want you to have it! i only want it for you!--you know i only want it for you! herbert, are you--are you sure you love me? tell me--tell me quite truly."

"i am as sure as that there is the moon above us; and now i dare to tell you so; no man ever loved a woman better than i love you. i know i am unworthy; i know how, in all essentials, you are infinitely above me----"

"i'm not--i'm not!"

"but it shall be my constant endeavour to raise myself to your level----"

"don't!--you don't know what you're saying! don't!"

"i do know what i'm saying, and i mean it; if god gives me strength i hope, before i've finished, to prove myself worthy of the wife i've won. you hear? then make a note of it."

then there were divers passages.

"herbert, i want you to go to mr. dawson tomorrow, and arrange about that partnership. i'll find the fifteen hundred pounds."

"sweetheart, you've turned all my sorrow into joy."

"and--this, sir, is supposed to be spoken in the faintest whisper--i--i think i'd like to be married pretty soon."

"as soon as it is legally possible, madam, you shall be married, if you choose to say the word."

"i don't want it in quite such a hurry as that; but--you know what i mean!--i don't want to have to wait a horrid year." presently she asked, "do you know that mr. lindsay's very ill?"

"i heard it as i came along."

"i think he's dying. i suppose nora'll be very rich if he does."

"let's hope that he'll not die."

"not die?"

she looked at him with such a strange expression on her face that he smiled.

"why, girlie, you don't want the father to die to make the daughter rich!"

"no; of course not."

but, afterwards, she was not the same; it was as if he had struck some jarring note. when they parted she went round to the back of the house, along the terrace, towards the study window, which still stood open. she paused upon the threshold.

"suppose he were not to die? suppose he doesn't?"

the problem the supposition presented to her mind seemed to cause her no slight disturbance; still she passed into the room.

which explains why, when nora said she doubted if mr. nash was ever really interested in anybody but himself, elaine harding had good cause to wonder if the thing was true.