"I'm so sorry!"
"Did you forget?"
"Yes, I forgot all about it," Milly admitted bluntly. "You see so much has happened since—"
"Then you didn't get my letters?" he pressed on eagerly, ignoring Milly's last words.
"Oh, yes, I got all your letters," she said hastily, remembering that she had not found time or heart to open the last bulky three, which lay upstairs on her dressing-table. "Beautiful letters they were," she added sentimentally and irrelevantly, thinking, "What letters Jack will write!"
It is useless to follow this painful scene in further detail. Timid as Edgar Duncan was by nature he was man enough to strike for what he wanted when he had his chance,—as he had struck manfully in those bulky letters. And he repeated their message now in simple words.
"Milly, will you go back with me?... I've waited for you all my life."
Touched by the pathos of this genuine feeling, Milly's eyes filled with tears and she stammered,—
"Oh, I can't—I really can't!"
"Why not?"