"Hope? No.... Don't put it that way, Jack.... I don't love you.... I oughtn't to, and, thank Heaven, I don't. And you don't really love me—you dear, sweet fellow! It's just part of your niceness—your generous attitude toward a girl——"
"I'm in love with you.... But that mustn't worry you. It had to be. You need feel no self-reproach. You didn't do anything—you were just yourself—and I"—he laughed a little—"started in to love you as soon as I saw you.... I'm glad you know it, anyway. We won't say anything more about it——"
"Jack, we will! Do you understand that you have distressed me dreadfully? Do you realize what a girl's responsibilities are when a nice man loves her? Do you think she can merely shrug her shoulders and go about her daily frivolities without another thought?"
She rose to her feet, looking at him earnestly.
"Oh, Jack! Jack!" she said, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands; "why did you do this? Why did you?"
He forced a laugh. "I won't do it again—ever," he said. "Promise you never to fall-in-love-again-hope-I-may-die'n-cross m'heart."
But there were no smiles left in her now.
"If you don't behave," he threatened, "I'll lock us both inside and sing songs to you!" ... But the smile died out on his face. "I was a gink to tell you. Don't feel unhappy about it," again the engaging humor glimmered in his eyes. "Cheer up, Silvette; you may fall in love with me yet!"
She looked up, the smile dawning, distressed, yet sweet.
"Don't let me, Jack.... Because I'm all right, so far.... And you know what your father wishes for you. I want to deal honorably by him."