"I suppose you'll think me a mean, heartless creature," she said slowly. "You'll think little enough of my promises, and still less of—of my loyalty." She paused. Then she raised her head and turned to him again. "I cannot marry Jim. I cannot undertake his reformation. I cannot give up my life to a man whom I now know I never really loved. I know you will not understand. I know, only too well, your own lofty spirit, your absolute unselfishness. I know that had you been in my place you would have fulfilled your promise at any cost. But I can't. I simply can't."
"No."
It was the man's only comment. But his mind was busy. He knew Betty so well that he understood a great deal without asking questions.
"Aunt Mary and uncle know my decision," the girl went on. "They know I am here, and that I am going to see Jim in your presence. You see, I thought if I sent for him to come to our house he might refuse. He might insult uncle again. I thought, somehow, it would be different with you."
Dave nodded.
"I don't blame your uncle and aunt for making you give him up," he said. "I'd have done it in their place."
"Yet you appealed for him?"
Betty's eyes questioned him.
"Sure, I promised to help him. That was before the bazaar."
Suddenly Betty held out her hands with a little appealing movement. Dave wanted to seize them and crush them in his own, but he did not stir.