What right have you to force me to tell you that which you already know--that I love you--another man's wife ?" Helen's face went white.

In her anxiety for Kitty she, had not foreseen this situation in which, by her question, she had placed herself.
"Larry!" she said sharply.
"Well," he retorted passionately, "you insisted that I tell you the truth." "I insisted that you tell me the truth about Kitty," she returned.
"Well, you have it," he answered quickly.
"Oh, Larry," she cried, "how could you--how could you ask a woman you do not love to be your wife?
How could you do it, Larry?
And just when I was so proud of you; so glad for you that you had found yourself; that you were such a splendid man!" "Kitty and I are the best of friends," he answered in a dull, spiritless tone, "the best of companions.

In the past year I have grown very fond of her--we have much in common.

I can give her the life she desires--the life she is fitted for.

I will make her happy; I will be true to her; I will be to her everything that a man should be to his wife." "No, Larry," she said gently, touched by the hopelessness in his voice, for he had spoken as though he already knew that his attempt to justify his engagement to Kitty was vain.