made me so quickly notice an absence of haste on Mr. Morris' part as
to the wedding. When the subject came up, as it naturally would, he
seemed to avoid it. At first I was surprised; but finally I grew
annoyed, and spoke my mind very frankly.

"You see, he is not at all well off, and I am--well I have a great
deal. I thought this might have something to do with his apparent
reluctance. But no, it was something else. As I just said, I spoke
frankly; and he was equally candid, after a fashion. He said it was
quite impossible for us to be married for some time. There was a
something--he did not say what--which must first be settled. Naturally
I grew curious. I desired to know what it was that so stood in the way
of our happiness. He replied that it was something that must not be
spoken of, and was so very earnest in the matter that I did not
mention it again--for a long time.

"You may think, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, that my fiancé was no very ardent
lover. But I was assured, and I do not lack perception, that he was
passionately fond of me. And I still think so. But as time went by,
things did not alter; our wedding was a vague expectation; even more
than before Mr. Morris avoided mention of anything definite.

"I am not naturally patient; and my rearing as the only child of an
enormously rich man has perhaps added to my impetuousness. In a burst
of temper one day, I broke the engagement, gave him back his ring and
did a number of other rather silly things. But he was so tragic in
his despair--so utterly broken hearted and white--that I immediately
relented and we patched the matter up once more. That he loved me was
plain; but that he could not marry me--for some mysterious reason--was
even plainer.