against this for many a day; but now, Coquette, won't you look up and
give me one kiss before we part?"

But her downcast face was pale and deathlike, and finally she said: "I
cannot speak to you now. To-morrow, or next day--perhaps we shall meet."

The next day she met him again, and told him she was going to Glasgow
with Lady Drum to see her cousin, the Whaup.

"I wonder," said Earlshope, "if he hopes to win your love, and is
working there with the intention of coming back and asking you to be his
wife."

"And if that will make him happy," she said slowly and with absent eyes,
"I will do that if he demands it."

"You will marry him, and make him fancy that you love him?"

"No, I should tell him everything. I should tell him he deserves to
marry a woman who has never loved anyone but himself, and yet that I
will be his wife if his marrying me will alone make him happy."

"But, Coquette--don't you see it cannot end here?" he said almost
desperately. "You do not know the chains in which I am bound; and I dare
not tell you."

"No; I do not wish to know. It is enough for me to be beside you now,
and if it should all prove bad and sorrowful, I shall remember that once
I walked with you here, and we had no thought of ill, and were for a
little while happy."