They walked slowly down the path until reaching a decrepit old gate,
where they stopped.

"This is the end of the garden," she said. "Shall we go into the
woods for a walk?"

"Dorothy!" Paul began, "pardon me for calling you by your name, but
do you know I feel as if any prefix in your case would be irritating,
from the fact that you strike me as a girl who is utterly above and
beyond such idle conventionalities. One would almost as soon think of
saying Miss to a goddess."

"And may I call you Paul? You will not think me forward if I should
do so?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I will think myself more honored than any poor language of mine
could describe," he answered.

"You know I would not want to call you Paul," she added, "unless I
believed in you--unless I thought you were true and honorable in all
things."

Paul winced. Was he not deceiving the girl at that very minute? What
could he say?

"Dorothy," he answered, after a moment's hesitation, "I am not true,
nor honorable neither. Perhaps you had better not call me Paul. I do
not deserve it."

She was looking him straight in the face, with her hand upon the