“Wait till I tell him,” she said, and turned to the 266 helpless man in the chair. “He asked me to marry him—some day. Would it be right for me to say yes?”
“’Tana!” exclaimed Lyster; but she raised her hand pleadingly.
“I haven’t any other person in the world I could go to and ask,” she said. “He knows me better than you do, Max, and I—Oh! I don’t think I should be always contented with your ways of living. I was born different—a heap different. But to-day it seems as if I am not strong enough to do without—some one—who likes me, and I do want to say ’yes’ to you, yet I’m afraid it is only because I am sick at heart and lonely.”
It was a declaration likely to cool the ardor of most lovers, but Lyster reached out his hand to her and laughed.
“Oh, you dear girl,” he said, fondly. “Did your conscience make it necessary for you to confess in this fashion? Now listen. You are weak and nervous; you need some one to look after you. Doesn’t she, Harris? Well, take me on trial. I will devote myself to your interests for six months, and if at the end of that time you find that it was only sickness and loneliness that ailed you, and not liking me, then I give you my word I’ll never try to hold you to a promise. You will be well and strong by that time, and I’ll stand by the decision you make then. Will you say ’yes,’ now?”
She looked at Harris, who nodded his head. Then she turned and gave her hand to Max.
“Yes,” she said. “But if you should be sorry—”
“Not another word,” he commanded; “the ’yes’ is all I want to hear just now; when I get sorry I’ll let you know.”
And that is the way their engagement began.