“Oh, I read to an old lady friend a great deal. I’m learning lots of pretty things in books.” Lightly touching her arm, he guided her to a broad seat screened by a marble group at the far end of the hall.

“Here is the place! Now I have a confession to make. I have not been strictly true to you—to myself.”

“Been flirting elsewhere?”

“The truth is I inquired of a theatrical agency what company was in Macon on December 23d, the day I met you, and was informed it was ‘Naughty Marietta.’ That is all. Don’t think I am asking you a question. It makes no difference to me if you are Marietta herself or a chorus girl.” Billee gasped and after a swift glance to his solemn face laughed until her eyes swam in tears.

“You dear boy! No, I am not an actress, that is, professionally. I went to Jacksonville, since you want to know, as—can you stand a shock?”

“Don’t tell me. I don’t care to know.” She picked at a darned place in her glove.

“As the companion of an old lady. Are you very much disappointed?”

“Happy old lady!” said King fervently. “Disappointed? I have an intense admiration for the girl who earns her own living. But, Billee, why work?”

“Don’t! You have forgotten the fatal fact.”

“But there is no fact that can be fatal to us, unless—unless, you are already married!” She considered this a moment, her face very grave.

“And you think it possible that I might be married and at the same time willing to meet you this way? How could you love such a person?”

“I don’t think so,” said King miserably, in over his head, “but there are only two things could keep you from me—death and marriage. And believe me, Billee, you are far from dead.” Then suddenly the little hand was slipped in his and he saw his own image in the gentian eyes.

“King—you will let me call you that, won’t you?—my King! Oh, don’t you understand? There must be a mystery between us; how long, the good God only knows—but it may not keep us from each other all the time. Can’t we be just sweethearts till then? Don’t you know I love to be with you—and—and would love you—if I might? Don’t you know? Don’t you know, King?” The inevitable happened. She was swept up in the arms of the young man and his lips were pressed to hers. For one long 

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