Alton sighed, and his face became impassive, but it seemed to the girl that there was relief in it.

“I think I could be kind to you and make things smooth for you,” he said very simply.  “I should always look up to you, and I wouldn’t ask for very much—­only to see you happy.”

He stopped apparently for inspiration, and Nellie Townshead smiled a little.  “Do you think that last was wise?”

Alton turned towards her with a little glint in his eyes, and the girl, who knew his temperament, felt that she had gone far enough.  He had borne it very well, and it seemed to her that other men might have handled the situation, which was difficult, less delicately.

“I asked you a question, and it seems to me that it still waits an answer.”

The girl rose and stood looking at him with a little colour in her cheeks and a flash in her eyes, but there was that in her attitude which held Alton at a distance.  “If you were not the man you are, and I was a little weaker, I should have said yes,” she said.  “As it is—­there is nothing that would induce me to marry you.”

It was almost dark now, and Nellie Townshead could not see her companion’s face, but she was no longer careful to keep her own in the shadow, even when the radiance from the stove flickered about the room.

“Will you not think it over?” he said very quietly.  “I know how unfit I am for you—­and I am a cripple—­but——­”

The light was now more visible in Nellie Townshead’s eyes, but her voice was gentle.  “No,” she said, “There are two very good reasons why it is impossible—­and you know one of them.  Now do you believe I do not know what brought you here to-day?”

“I think I have been trying to tell you,” said Alton sturdily.  “If you fancy it was anything else you are wrong.”

The girl shook her head.  “You are a good man, Harry Alton, but not a clever one.  Only that it would have been a wrong to you, you would almost have persuaded me—­by your silence chiefly.  Still, you must go away, and never speak of this again.”

Alton stood still a moment glancing at her with pity and a great admiration.  The girl was good to look upon, he knew her courage, and now as she flung all that he could offer her away and stood alone and friendless with the world against her, but undismayed, all his heart went out to her, and what he had commenced from duty he could almost have continued from inclination.

“Please listen just a little, and I’ll be quite frank,” he said.  “You told me there were two reasons.”

Possibly the girl read what was passing in his mind, for she smiled curiously.

“I think you had better go—­now—­and leave me only a kindly memory of you.  Do you think I should be content to take—­the second place?” she said.  “Nothing that you could tell me would remove one of the obstacles, and you will be grateful presently.  When that time comes be wise, and don’t ask for less than everything.”