The Lighted Match

There was a tumult of pounding pulses in his veins, responsive to the

fluttering heart which beat back of a crushed rose in the lithe being he

held in his arms. Then he obeyed the pressure of the hands on his

shoulders and released her.

"Why should you find it so hard to say?" He asked.

She sat for a moment with her hands covering her face.

"You must never do that again," she said faintly. "You have not the

right. I have not the right."

"I have the only right," he announced triumphantly.

She shook her head. "Not when the girl is engaged."

She looked at him with a sad droop at the corners of her lips. He sat

silent--waiting.

"Listen!" She spoke wearily, rising and leaning against the rough bole

of the tree at her back, with both hands tightly clasped behind her.

"Listen and don't interrupt, because it's hard, and I want to finish

it." Her words came slowly with labored calm, almost as if she were

reciting memorized lines. "It sounds simple from your point of view. It

is simple from mine, but desperately hard. Love is not the only thing.

To some of us there is something else that must come first. I am

engaged, and I shall marry the man to whom I am engaged. Not because I

want to, but because--" her chin went up with the determination that was

in her--"because I must."

"What kind of man will ask you to keep a promise that your heart

repudiates?" he hotly demanded.

"He knew that I loved you before you knew it," she answered; "that I

would always love you--that I would never love him. Besides, he must do

it. After all, it's fortunate that he wants to." She tried to laugh.

"Is his name Pagratide?" The man mechanically drew his handkerchief from

his cuff, and wiped beads of cold moisture from his forehead.

The girl shook her head. "No, his name is not Pagratide."

He took a step nearer, but she raised a hand to wave him back, and he

bowed his submission.

"You love me--you are certain of that?" he whispered.

"Do you doubt it?"

"No," he said, "I don't doubt it."

Again he pressed the handkerchief to his forehead, and in the silvering

radiance of the moonlight she could see the outstanding tracery of the

arteries on his temples.

Instantly she flung both arms about his neck.