Are you afraid--afraid of the climate?
We can easily live elsewhere, you know.
You can pick out your climate, the whole world over." These words were uttered with a breadth of candour that was like the embrace of strong arms--that was like the fragrance straight in her face, and by his clean, breathing lips, of she knew not what strange gardens, what charged airs.

She would have given her little finger at that moment to feel strongly and simply the impulse to answer: "Lord Warburton, it's impossible for me to do better in this wonderful world, I think, than commit myself, very gratefully, to your loyalty." But though she was lost in admiration of her opportunity she managed to move back into the deepest shade of it, even as some wild, caught creature in a vast cage.

The "splendid" security so offered her was not the greatest she could conceive.

What she finally bethought herself of saying was something very different--something that deferred the need of really facing her crisis.

"Don't think me unkind if I ask you to say no more about this to-day." "Certainly, certainly!" her companion cried.