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“Go on,” said Dick, in a low voice.

Alice was flushed, and her eyes sparkled, but her self-possession was complete.

“Well, you come back after four years, and, it seems, expect to find me still a child. Instead of that, I am a woman a sensible woman,” with a good humoured twinkle of the eyes, “disinclined to go on with the old nonsense just where it left off you must admit that that would be absurd? But for the rest, I am as fond of you, Dick, as I was then only without the childish nonsense. No one is more delighted to see you back, and welcome you, than I am; no one is more your friend. Dear Dick,” she added in a tone of earnest entreaty, “cannot we be friends still?”

“No!” exclaimed Dick, hoarsely.

The flush died away from the girl’s face, to return two-fold.

“No!” he repeated. “You give me your love, and then, after years of separation, you offer me your friendship instead. What is that to me? How can I make that do a lamp instead of the sun? It is too much to ask of any man: you know it. Who has taught you to play with men’s hearts like this?”