“I am, too; but that which I want to say to you is, that you are not to blame, and I don’t blame you.  I could not love a girl simply because she wanted me to, were such a thing possible, and why should I demand of you what I couldn’t do myself?  All I asked in the first place—­don’t you remember it in the old front walk at home?—­was friendship.  Let us go back to that.  Let me become your simple, honest friend, and help you in every way within my power.  Don’t let me frighten you any more with the dread of high tragedy.  Now you’ve had all the declaration you ever need fear.  I won’t break loose or explode under any provocation.  I can’t help my love, and you must not punish me for it, nor make yourself miserable about it, as if it were a powder magazine which a kind word or look might touch off.  I want to put your heart to rest, for you have enough to bear now, Heaven knows; I want you to feel safe with me—­as free from fear and annoyance as Belle is.  I won’t presume or be sentimental.”

“Oh, my perverse, perverse heart!” wailed Mildred.  “I could tear it out of my breast and throw it away in disgust.  I want to love—­it would be a poor return for all that you are and have done for me—­but it is of no use.  I will not deceive one so true as you are, by even a trace of falseness.  You deserve the love of the best woman in the world, and some day you’ll find her—–­”

“I have found her,” he put in quietly.

“No, no, no!” she cried passionately; “but I am as nature made me, and I can’t seem to help myself.  How strange it seems that I can say from the depths of my soul I could die for you, and yet that I can’t do just the one thing you deserve a thousand times!  But, Roger, I will be the most devoted sister that ever a man had.”

“No,” he said, smiling, “that won’t answer at all.  That wouldn’t be honest, as far as I am concerned.  Belle is my sister, but you can never be.  I know you don’t love me now, and, as I’ve said, perhaps you never can, but I’m too persistent in my nature to give up the hope.  Time may bring changes, and I’ve got years of up-hill work before I can think of marrying.  You are in a self-sacrificing mood now.  I saw it in your eyes and manner last night—­I see it now.  Mildred, I could take a very great advantage of you if I chose.”

“Indeed you could.  You don’t know how generous you are.  You have conquered me, overwhelmed me by your kindness, and I couldn’t say No to anything in your nature to ask.”

For a moment he looked sorely tempted, and then he said brusquely, “I’ll put a spoke in that wheel.  I’d give all the world for this little hand, but I won’t take it until your heart goes with it.  So there!”

The young girl sighed deeply.  “You are right,” she murmured, “when you give so much I can give so little.”