He said slowly: "Suppose I offered the same chance to you?"
"What!" she said crisply.
"Suppose I offered you a college finishing, Miss Herold. Would you accept?"
She slowly grew scarlet under his gaze. "That would be insulting," she said, in a low voice.
"Why, when only kindness is meant—as I mean it for Jim?"
"It is not the same. I am a grown woman capable of caring for myself. Such an offer, however kindly meant, could only hurt me, humiliate me—and—I thought you found me companionable
as I am. Friends do not offer to better each other—in such a way."
"I have not offered it to you, Miss Herold."
She looked up, still flushed and brilliant eyed; then her face changed softly. "I know it. I was foolishly sensitive. I know you couldn't offer such a thing to me. But I wish I knew whether we could accept for Jim. He is such a darling—so intelligent and perfectly crazy for an education. I've saved a little—that's why I wanted you to hire me for your bayman. You see I don't spend anything on myself," she added, with a blush.
Marche was fighting hard for self-restraint; he was young and romantic, and his heart was very full. "What I'd