"Then I'd have to marry _him_," she interrupted swiftly.

"You ought not to marry him if you dislike him"--and the young parson
felt himself flush hotly, and was thankful for the darkness; what a
fool a fellow felt, giving advice about a love-affair!

"I _have_ to. You see--he's pathetic. He'd go back into the depths if
I let go, and--and I'm fond of him, in a way."

"Oh!"--the masculine mind was bewildered. "I understood that
you--disliked him."

"Why, I do. But I'm just fond of him." Then she laughed again. "Any
woman would know how I mean it. I mean--I am fond of him--I'd do
anything for him. But I don't believe in him, and the thought of--of
marrying him makes me desperate."

"Then you should not."

"I have to, if I live. So I'm going to kill myself to-night. You have
nothing to say against it. You've said nothing--that counts. If you
said I'd certainly go to hell, I might not--but you don't say that. I
think you can't say it." She stood up. "Thank you for listening
patiently. At least you have helped me to come to my decision. I'm
going to. To-night."

This was too awful. He had helped her to decide to kill herself. He
could not let her go that way. He stood before her and talked with all
his might. "You cannot do that. You must not. You are overstrained
and excited, and it is no time to do an irrevocable thing. You must