books. It was delightfully romantic, and yet there seemed to be
something wrong about it. She was like a timid bather, longing to
plunge into the water, yet hesitating through a vague fear. With a
quick catching of the breath she turned to Vandeloup, and saw him
with his burning scintillating eyes fastened on her face.

'Don't look like that,' she said, with a touch of virginal fear,
pushing him away, 'you frighten me.'

'Frighten you, Bebe?' he said, in a caressing tone; 'my heart's
idol, you are cruel to speak like that; you must come with me, for I
cannot and will not leave you behind.'

'When do you go?' asked Kitty, who was now trembling violently.

'Ah!' M. Vandeloup was puzzled what to say, as he had no very
decided plan of action. He had not sufficient money saved to justify
him in leaving the Pactolus--still there were always possibilities,
and Fortune was fond of playing wild pranks. At the same time there
was nothing tangible in view likely to make him rich, so, as these
thoughts rapidly passed through his mind, he resolved to temporize.

'I can't tell you, Bebe,' he said, in a caressing tone, smoothing
her curly hair. 'I want you to think over what I have said, and when
I do go, perhaps in a month or so, you will be ready to come with
me. No,' he said, as Kitty was about to answer, 'I don't want you to
reply now, take time to consider, little one,' and with a smile on
his lips he bent over and kissed her tenderly.

They sat silently together for some time, each intent on their own