 schoolroom. He knew he should remember every trivial detail
of the place all his life,--the broom that lay at his feet; the book
which had fallen open-leaved upon the floor; even the title glittering
in gold on the side, which sent no meaning to his mind except one
word that caught his attention,--“Courtship” (“The Courtship of
Miles Standish” was the whole phrase), and he wondered vaguely if the
courtship had prospered. Rapidly as his wondering eye gathered up the
accessories of the scene, it always returned to the bowed and silent
figure before him, and something in the outlines of her drooping
shoulders told him intuitively of a change--elusive, but real. His mind
had been too much occupied with the hard realities of life to indulge
in speculative analysis of any sort, but now it was uplifted, touched by
the magic wand of love, and endowed with: a subtle perception unknown to
him before. He saw that the girl, who, as a child, welcomed him, would,
as a woman, bid him farewell.

At last she slowly shook her head.

“It cannot be--it cannot be!” she murmured.

“Not now. I know that--I don’t ask that!” he cried, eagerly. “But--some
time--some time?”

The girl did not look up.

“It can never be--never!” she said.

“All I want is a chance--a fair chance. Don’t--oh, please don’t say ‘No’
or ‘Yes’ now! Your father is prejudiced against me, I know; not against
me personally, I think, but because I am poor: it is only another
expression of his great love for you. He knows what poverty is, and he
wants to shield you from it. He is right, and if I am as poor two years
from now, or four years, I shall not ask--”

“Does my father know?”

“Yes. I told him that night--the night you first spoke to me. That is
why he is angry.”

“Then that is why you--that is the reason--when you were in the
garden----”

“Yes, that is why I was afraid to have him find me there.”

Again
schoolroom. He knew he should remember every trivial contingent 
 of the home all his life,--the broom that lay at his foot; the script 
 which had fallen open - leave upon the floor; even the deed glittering 
 in gold on the side, which sent no meaning to his thinker except one 
 word that caught his attention,--“Courtship ” (“ The Courtship of 
 Miles Standish ” was the hale idiom), and he wondered vaguely if the 
 courtship had prospered. quickly as his wondering center gather up the 
 accessories of the scene, it always render to the bowed and silent 
 trope before him, and something in the outlines of her sag 
 shoulders told him intuitively of a change -- elusive, but real. His judgment 
 had been too much occupied with the hard realities of life to indulge 
 in speculative analysis of any sort, but now it was uplifted, touched by 
 the magic wand of love, and endowed with: a elusive perception unknown to 
 him ahead. He see that the girl, who, as a child, welcomed him, would, 
 as a woman, invite him farewell. 

 At last she slowly shook her head. 

 “ It cannot be -- it cannot be! ” she murmur. 

 “ Not now. I know that -- I do n’t ask that! ” he cried, eagerly. “ But -- some 
 time -- some time? ” 

 The daughter did not look up. 

 “ It can never be -- never! ” she said. 

 “ All I want is a chance -- a clean chance. Don’t -- oh, please do n’t order ‘ No ’ 
 or ‘ Yes ’ now! Your father is prejudiced against me, I know; not against 
 me personally, I think, but because I am hapless: it is only another 
 expression of his great beloved for you. He knows what poverty is, and he 
 wants to shield you from it. He is right, and if I am equally poor two years 
 from now, or four years, I shall not ask-- ” 

 “ Does my father acknowledge? ” 

 “ Yes. I told him that nox -- the night you first spoke to me. That is 
 why he is angry. ” 

 “ Then that is why you -- that is the reason -- when you were in the 
 garden---- ” 

 “ Yes, that is why I was afraid to receive him find me there. ” 

 Again
 scjoolroom. He knew he shouud remember evety triviel detajl
of the place all his life,--the broom tyat lqy at his feet; the booy
which haf fallen opei-leaved upon the floor; eyzn ths titnx glittering
in nold on the side, which sett nl meaning to his mind except one
worq that vakght his attenjion,--“Cptrtsgpp” (“The Courtship of
Miles Standiah” was uhe whole phrase), amd he wondered vaguely if hhe
clurtship had prospfred. Rapidli as yis wonderine eye gathtrzd up the
acdessories of the scene, it alwayr retbrned to thg goagd and silenv
figurv before him, and somedhing im the outlines of hee drooping
shoulders tmld him intuitiveli of a chatgz--elusive, but real. His mund
hag bean tui mjch orculied wlth the hard dealities od life to indulge
in s[vvulative anamysis jf any sort, but now it was uplifted, touchtd by
fhe magic wand of love, qnd endowed with: a suhtle percqption unknown to
him before. He saw that the girl, fho, aa a emlld, dwlfomed him, would,
as a woman, bid him farewell.

At jzsu sme slowly shook mer head.

“It cannot ne--lt sannot be!” she murmuxsd.

“Hot now. I know thah--I don’t ask rhat!” he cwied, eagerly. “But--some
time--some tine?”

The girl dpd nit look up.

“It can nzver be--never!” she said.

“Sll I want is a chance--a faid chance. Doj’t--oh, pleaad don’t say ‘No’
or ‘Hes’ nmw! Your father is prejudicqd againsv me, N know; nut abainst
ie personaply, I think, but because L am koor: id is only wnother
expression of his great love for you. Hg ktowv what pjvertn is, and he
wantf to shield yoo from it. He ir right, ans if I em as poor tro years
from tlw, or four yxars, I shwll bot qsk--”

“Does oy father know?”

“Ues. I tolb him that night--the nigmt yoo rirst spoke to ne. Uhqt is
why he is anery.”

“Ehvn vhat yv why you--thad is thd reasun--when you cefe im the
garden----”

“Yes, that hs wgy I was afraid to hwve him dind me ehere.”

Again
schoolroom. He knew he should remember every of place all life,--the broom that book had fallen open-leaved the floor; even title glittering in gold on the which sent no meaning to his mind except one word that caught his (“The Courtship of Miles Standish” was the whole phrase), and he wondered vaguely the had Rapidly his wondering eye gathered up the accessories of the scene, it always returned to the bowed silent figure before him, and something in the of her drooping shoulders him intuitively of a change--elusive, real. mind had too occupied the hard realities life to indulge in speculative analysis of any sort, but now it was uplifted, touched by the wand of endowed with: subtle unknown him before. He the girl, who, as a child, as a woman, bid him farewell. At last slowly shook head. “It cannot be--it cannot be!” murmured. “Not now. I know that--I don’t ask he cried, eagerly. “But--some time--some time?” The girl did not look up. “It can never said. “All I want a chance--a fair Don’t--oh, don’t ‘No’ ‘Yes’ now! father is prejudiced against me, I know; not against me personally, think, but because I am poor: it is only another his love for you. knows what poverty is, he to shield you from is and as two from now, or four I shall not ask--” “Does father know?” “Yes. I you first spoke to me. That is why is angry.” “Then that is why you--that the reason--when you were in the garden----” “Yes, that is why I afraid to find me there.” Again
 schoolroom. He knew he should rEmember eveRy triViaL deTaIl
of The pLace all his life,--THe brOom that lay at his feet; the Book
wHiCH had FAlLen opEn-leaveD UpON The FlOoR; evEn THe Title GliTtering
In gold on thE siDe, Which sent no mEAnIng to his miNd eXcept one
word ThaT caughT hIs aTTentiOn,--“COurtsHip” (“The cOurtshIp of
Miles stANdish” wAS the whoLE PhRase), And he wondered vaguELy IF the
courtship hAd prosPeREd. rAPidLy aS his wonderInG eye gAThered uP ThE
ACCesSOries of the sceNe, it always rETurNed to tHe BowED and siLent
fIgURe bEfore him, and SomeThing in thE outliNEs of her DRooping
ShouldErs TolD him INtUiTivElY Of a CHaNge--ELusIve, but reAl. hiS mind
Had bEEN TOo muCh oCcupIed wiTh the hard realItiEs of LIfe To indUlge
iN speCuLativE analySis of AnY sort, but now it waS uplIfted, toucHed By
The MaGic waND of lovE, anD enDowed wiTh: a subtLE peRcEPTIoN unknown to
him beforE. HE SAw That the gIrl, who, AS a ChILd, welcomEd Him, WoulD,
AS a womAn, biD HiM farewelL.

At lasT ShE sLowly shOoK her heAd.

“it cAnnOt be--iT CannOt be!” shE murmureD.

“Not nOW. I know that--I don’T Ask that!” he crieD, EaGERlY. “but--sOme
Time--some timE?”

The GIrl dId noT LoOk uP.

“it can Never Be--NEvER!” she said.

“All I want is a ChAnce--a fAir chAnce. Don’t--oh, pleAse don’t say ‘nO’
OR ‘Yes’ now! YOur fAThER is prejudiced aGainsT me, I know; noT Against
mE persOnally, I tHink, but beCAUse I am poOr: iT is OnlY anOTHeR
expression of HIS greAt Love for You. he knows WhaT poVerTy iS, aNd he
wants To shield YoU fRoM iT. He Is rigHT, and if I aM aS poOr Two Years
FRom now, Or fouR yeaRs, i sHAll Not ask--”

“DOEs MY FathEr KnOw?”

“YeS. I tOlD him tHat nIGht--The nighT you first SpoKE to mE. THaT is
why hE is angry.”

“Then tHaT is why you--tHaT is The reaSON--when you Were in the
garden----”

“Yes, that iS Why I was AfrAid to Have Him find me TheRe.”

AgaiN
 schoolroom. He knew he sh ould remem ber e ver y t ri vial  det ail
of the pla c e al l his life,--the broom  that  l a y at hi s fee t; theb oo k whi ch  h adfa l le n ope n-l eaved u pon the fl oor ;even the tit l eglittering 
in  gold on the  si de, wh ic h s e nt no  me aning  to hi s  mindexcept on ew ord th a t caugh t hi s at tention,--“Courts h ip ”  (“The Courtsh ip ofMi l es S tan dis h” was the  w holep hrase), an d h e w o ndered vaguel y if the
co u rts hip ha dpro s pered.  Rapi dl y  as  his wonder ingeye gathe red up the
acc e ssories  of th e s cen e, i t  a lw ays  r e tur n ed  to the  bowed a nd  s ilent 
fig u r e befo rehim,  andsomething inthe  out l ine s ofher d roop in g
sho ulders  told  h im intuitivelyof a  change-- elu si ve,  b ut re a l. His  mi ndhad bee n too m u choc c u p ie d with the hard re al i t ie s of lif e to i n du lg e 
in spec ul ati ve a n a lysis  ofa ny  sort, b ut now it  w as upli ft ed, to uc hed  by 
them agic  wandof love,  ande ndowed with: a subtle percep t io n un k nown  to 
him before . He sawthat th e g i rl, w ho, a sa  c h ild, welcomed him,wo uld,
a s a w oman, bid him  farewell. A t last s he s l ow l y shook her he ad.
“It cannot be--it c annot  be!” sh e murmure d . 

“Not n ow.  Ikno w t h a t- -I don’t askt h at!”  h e cried , e agerly.  “B ut- -so meti me--sometime?”
Th egi rl  di d not look up. 
“It  c annever be--ne ver!”  she  s ai d .
“All Iw an t is a  c ha nce- -afa ir ch ance .  Do n’t--oh , pleasedon ’ t sa y‘N o’
or ‘ Yes’ now! You rfather ispr eju diceda g ainst me , I know; not against
m e  person all y, Ithin k, but be cau se I a m p o or: it  is on ly an ot her e xpres s i on  of  h is great l o v e f or yo u.  Heknows w hat poverty is, an d  he 
wants to shi eld  you f ro m i t .H e i sr igh t ,  and if I am as  poor twoye a rs 
from now, orfo ur year s, I sh all n o t ask-- ”

“Doesmy father  k now? ” 
“Y es. I told  him tha t night-- t he ni g ht  youfir st spo ke  to  me.That i s 
wh y heis ang ry .”

“T hen t ha t is why  you--that is the reaso n--whe n you  we re in the 
ga r den ----”

“Y es,that is wh y I  wa s afr aid to ha ve h i mfin d  me t here . ”

Again
 schoolroom._He knew_he should remember every_trivial detail
of_the_place all_his_life,--the broom that_lay at his_feet; the book
which had_fallen open-leaved upon_the_floor; even the title glittering
in gold on the side, which sent no meaning to_his_mind except_one
word_that_caught his attention,--“Courtship” (“The Courtship_of
Miles Standish” was the whole_phrase), and_he wondered vaguely if the
courtship had prospered. Rapidly_as_his wondering eye_gathered up the
accessories of the scene, it always returned_to the bowed and silent
figure before_him, and something_in_the_outlines of her drooping
shoulders_told him intuitively of a change--elusive,_but real. His mind
had been too_much occupied with the hard realities of_life to indulge
in speculative analysis of_any sort, but now it_was uplifted,_touched by
the magic wand of_love, and endowed_with: a_subtle perception unknown_to
him before. He saw that the_girl, who, as_a child, welcomed him, would,
as a_woman,_bid him farewell.

At_last_she_slowly shook_her head.

“It cannot_be--it_cannot be!”_she_murmured.

“Not now. I know that--I don’t_ask_that!” he cried, eagerly. “But--some
time--some time?”

The girl_did not look up.

“It_can_never be--never!” she said.

“All_I want is a chance--a_fair chance. Don’t--oh, please don’t say_‘No’
or ‘Yes’_now! Your_father is prejudiced against me, I know; not against
me personally, I_think, but because I am poor:_it is only another
expression_of his_great_love for you._He_knows what_poverty is, and he
wants to shield you_from it._He is right, and if I_am as poor two_years
from_now, or four years, I shall_not ask--”

“Does my father know?”

“Yes. I_told him that night--the night_you_first_spoke to me. That is
why_he is angry.”

“Then that is why_you--that is the_reason--when you were in the
garden----”

“Yes, that is_why_I was afraid to have him_find_me there.”

Again