“Fine, fine,” she would say.  “Carry it out.  You can do it.”

“With your help, Carlia.”

“I’ll gladly help you all I can; but that is so little; what can I do?”

“Trust me, have faith in me; and when the time comes, marry me.”

This was usually the end of the conversation for Carlia; she became silent unless he changed the subject.

Dorian, naturally undemonstrative, was now more careful than ever in his love making.  The intimacy between them never quite returned to the earlier state.  Complete forgetfulness of what had been, was, of course, impossible, either for Carlia or for Dorian; but he tried manfully not to let the “specter” come too often between him and the girl he loved.  He frequently told her that he loved her, but it was done by simple word or act.  Dorian’s greater knowledge gave him the advantage over her.  He was bound by this greater knowledge to be the stronger, the wiser, the one who could keep all situations well in hand.

One evening, when Carlia was unusually sweet and tempting, he asked if he might kiss her goodnight.  She set her face as if it were hard to deny him, but she finally said: 

“No; you must not.”

“Why not, Carlia?”

“We’re not engaged yet.”

“Carlia!”

“We are not.  I have never promised to marry you, have I?” She smiled.

“No; I guess not; but that’s understood.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“There are some things definitely fixed without the spoken word.”

“Good night, Dorian.”  She was smiling still.

“Good night, Carlia.”  Their hands met and clasped, atoning the best they could for the forbidden kiss.

One evening when the feeling of spring was in the air, Dorian was going to call on Carlia, when he heard the approach of an automobile.  As it turned into the bystreet, leading to the Duke home, Dorian saw the driver to be Mr. Jack Lamont.  Dorian kept in the road, and set his face hard.  As the machine had to stop to prevent running over him, Dorian turned, walked deliberately to the side of the car, and looking steadily into Mr. Lamont’s face, said: 

“I’m going to Mr. Duke’s also.  If I find you there, I’ll thrash you within an inch of your life.  Drive on.”

For a moment, the two glared at each other, then the automobile went on—­on past the Duke house toward town.  When Dorian arrived at his destination, Carlia greeted him with: 

“Dorian, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he laughed.

“You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“Am I?  Well, I haven’t seen any ghosts—­Say, mother wants you to come to supper.  She has something you specially like.  Can you?”