harshness in this effort to right yourself at the cost of the unresisting
dead. Since you did not deny him living, must you repudiate him now? Fling
away even his memory, that casts so thin a shade upon your life, a faint
morning shadow that will shrink as your sun climbs higher. By degrees you
will be free. And, speaking less selfishly, would there not be a certain
indelicacy in reopening now the question of your past relations to one
whose name is very seldom spoken? Others may not be thinking so much
of your loss--your supposed loss," the old gentleman conscientiously
supplied--"as your sensitiveness leads you to imagine. But you will give
occasion for thinking and for talking if you tear open now your girlhood's
secrets. Whom does it concern, my dear, to know where or how your heart is
bestowed?"

Daphne's cheeks and brow were burning hot; even her little ears were
scarlet. Her eyes filled and drooped. "It is only right," she owned. "It is
my natural punishment."

"No, no; I would not punish nor judge you. I love you too well. But I know
better than you can what a safeguard this will be,--this disguise which is
no longer a deception, since the one it was meant to deceive knows all and
forgives it. It will rebuke the bold and hasty pretenders to a treasure you
cannot safely part with, even by your own gift, as yet. You are still very
young in some ways, my dear."

"I am old enough," said Daphne, "to have learned one fearful lesson."

"Do I oppress you with my view? Do I insist too much?"

Perhaps nothing could have lowered the girl in her own eyes more than
this humility of the gentle old man in the face of his own self-exposed