"No. Why should I wish to have? I shall not be here long."
Elliott's face contracted with a spasm of pain.
"You are not going away, Magdalen?"
"Yes—in the fall. I have my own living to earn, you know. I am very poor. Uncle and Aunt are very kind, but I cannot consent to burden them any longer than I can help."
A sigh that was almost a moan broke from Esterbrook Elliott's lips.
"You must not go away, Magdalen. You must stay here—with me!"
"You forget yourself," she said proudly. "How dare you speak to me so? Have you forgotten Miss Lesley? Or are you a traitor to us both?"
Esterbrook made no answer. He bowed his pale, miserable face before her, self-condemned.
The breast of the bay sparkled with its countless gems like the breast of a fair woman. The shores were purple and amethystine in the distance. Far out, bluish, phantom-like sails clustered against the pallid horizon. The dory danced like a feather over the ripples. They were close under the shadow of Chapel Point.