'Yes, Saturday too,' she answered, trying to smile. 'But tomorrow first.' He was going to the door, and she went with him quickly. She leaned her shoulder against it; it seemed to her that she would do anything to keep him.

'If I am prevented from coming to-morrow, you will say I have deceived you,' he said.

'How can you be prevented? You can come if you will.'

'I am a busy man - I am not a dangler!' cried Morris, sternly. His voice was so hard and unnatural that, with a helpless look at him, she turned away; and then he quickly laid his hand on the door-knob. He felt as if he were absolutely running away from her. But in an instant she was close to him again, and murmuring in a tone none the less penetrating for being low, 'Morris, you are going to leave me.'

'Yes, for a little while.'

'For how long?'

'Till you are reasonable again.'

'I shall never be reasonable, in that way.' And she tried to keep him longer; it was almost a struggle.' Think of what I have done!' she broke out. 'Morris, I have given up everything.'

'You shall have everything back.'

'You wouldn't say that if you didn't mean something. What is it? - what has happened? - what have I done? - what has changed you?'

'I will write to you - that is better,' Morris stammered.

'Ah, you won't come back!' she cried, bursting into tears. 'Dear Catherine,' he said, 'don't believe that. I promise you that you shall see me again.' And he managed to get away, and to close the door behind him.