"I did--once," he muttered.

"You didn't understand; why did you believe anything I said to
you? It was only that I cared--that in my heart I knew I cared
--I've cared about you ever since that trip down the river, and now
I am going to be married to-morrow--to-morrow, Bruce--do you
realize I have given my promise? I am to meet him at the Spring
Bank church at ten o'clock--and it's tomorrow!" she cried, in a
laboring choked voice. For answer he drew her closer. "Bruce,
what can I do?--tell me what I can do."

Carrington made an involuntary gesture of protest.

"I can't tell you that, dear--for I don't know." His voice was
steady, but it came from lips that quivered. He knew that he
might have urged the supreme claim of his love and in her present
desperate mood she would have listened, but the memory of Norton
would have been between them always a shame and reproach; as
surely as he stood there with his arms about her, as surely as
she clung to him so warm and near, he would have lived to see the
shadow of that shame in her eyes.

"I can not do it--I can not, Bruce!" she panted.

"Dear--dear--don't tempt me!" He held himself in check.

"I am going to tell you--just this once, BruceI love you--you are
my own for this one moment out of my life!" and she abandoned
herself to the passionate caressing with which he answered her.
"How can I give you up?" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.