When Carrie came Hurstwood had been waiting many minutes. His blood waswarm; his nerves wrought up. He was anxious to see the woman who hadstirred him so profoundly the night before.

"Here you are," he said, repressedly, feeling a spring in his limbs andan elation which was tragic in itself.

"Yes," said Carrie.

They walked on as if bound for some objective point, while Hurstwooddrank in the radiance of her presence. The rustle of her pretty skirtwas like music to him.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked, thinking of how well she did the nightbefore.

"Are you?"

He tightened his fingers as he saw the smile she gave him.

"It was wonderful."

Carrie laughed ecstatically.

"That was one of the best things I've seen in a long time," he added.

He was dwelling on her attractiveness as he had felt it the eveningbefore, and mingling it with the feeling her presence inspired now.

Carrie was dwelling in the atmosphere which this man created for her.Already she was enlivened and suffused with a glow. She felt his drawingtoward her in every sound of his voice.

"Those were such nice flowers you sent me," she said, after a moment ortwo. "They were beautiful."

"Glad you liked them," he answered, simply.

He was thinking all the time that the subject of his desire was beingdelayed. He was anxious to turn the talk to his own feelings. All wasripe for it. His Carrie was beside him. He wanted to plunge in andexpostulate with her, and yet he found himself fishing for words andfeeling for a way.

"You got home all right," he said, gloomily, of a sudden, his tonemodifying itself to one of self-commiseration.

"Yes," said Carrie, easily.

He looked at her steadily for a moment, slowing his pace and fixing herwith his eye.

She felt the flood of feeling.

"How about me?" he asked.

This confused Carrie considerably, for she realised the floodgates wereopen. She didn't know exactly what to answer.

"I don't know," she answered.

He took his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, and then let itgo. He stopped by the walk side and kicked the grass with his toe. Hesearched her face with a tender, appealing glance.

"Won't you come away from him?" he asked, intensely.

"I don't know," returned Carrie, still illogically drifting and findingnothing at which to catch.

As a matter of fact, she was in a most hopeless quandary. Here was a manwhom she thoroughly liked, who exercised an influence over her,sufficient almost to delude her into the belief that she was possessedof a lively passion for him. She was still the victim of his keen eyes,his suave manners, his fine clothes. She looked and saw before her aman who was most gracious and sympathetic, who leaned toward her with afeeling that was a delight to observe. She could not resist the glow ofhis temperament, the light of his eye. She could hardly keep fromfeeling what he felt.

And yet she was not without thoughts which were disturbing. What did heknow? What had Drouet told him? Was she a wife in his eyes, or what?Would he marry her? Even while he talked, and she softened, and her eyeswere lighted with a tender glow, she was asking herself if Drouet hadtold him they were not married. There was never anything at allconvincing about what Drouet said.

And yet she was not grieved at Hurstwood's love. No strain of bitternesswas in it for her, whatever he knew. He was evidently sincere. Hispassion was real and warm. There was power in what he said. What shouldshe do? She went on thinking this, answering vaguely, languishingaffectionately, and altogether drifting, until she was on a borderlesssea of speculation.

"Why don't you come away?" he said, tenderly. "I will arrange for youwhatever--"

"Oh, don't," said Carrie.

"Don't what?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

There was a look of confusion and pain in her face. She was wonderingwhy that miserable thought must be brought in. She was struck as by ablade with the miserable provision which was outside the pale ofmarriage.

He himself realised that it was a wretched thing to have dragged in. Hewanted to weigh the effects of it, and yet he could not see. He wentbeating on, flushed by her presence, clearly awakened, intenselyenlisted in his plan.

"Won't you come?" he said, beginning over and with a more reverentfeeling. "You know I can't do without you--you know it--it can't go onthis way--can it?"

"I know," said Carrie.

"I wouldn't ask if I--I wouldn't argue with you if I could help it. Lookat me, Carrie. Put yourself in my place. You don't want to stay awayfrom me, do you?"

She shook her head as if in deep thought.

"Then why not settle the whole thing, once and for all?"

"I don't know," said Carrie.

"Don't know! Ah, Carrie, what makes you say that? Don't torment me. Beserious."

"I am," said Carrie, softly.

"You can't be, dearest, and say that. Not when you know how I love you.Look at last night."

His manner as he said this was the most quiet imaginable. His face andbody retained utter composure. Only his eyes moved, and they flashed asubtle, dissolving fire. In them the whole intensity of the man's naturewas distilling itself.

Carrie made no answer.

"How can you act this way, dearest?" he inquired, after a time. "Youlove me, don't you?"

He turned on her such a storm of feeling that she was overwhelmed. Forthe moment all doubts were cleared away.

"Yes," she answered, frankly and tenderly.

"Well, then you'll come, won't you--come to-night?"

Carrie shook her head in spite of her distress.

"I can't wait any longer," urged Hurstwood. "If that is too soon, comeSaturday."

"When will we be married?" she asked, diffidently, forgetting in herdifficult situation that she had hoped he took her to be Drouet's wife.

The manager started, hit as he was by a problem which was more difficultthan hers. He gave no sign of the thoughts that flashed like messages tohis mind.

"Any time you say," he said, with ease, refusing to discolour hispresent delight with this miserable problem.

"Saturday?" asked Carrie.

He nodded his head.

"Well, if you will marry me then," she said, "I'll go."

The manager looked at his lovely prize, so beautiful, so winsome, sodifficult to be won, and made strange resolutions. His passion hadgotten to that stage now where it was no longer coloured with reason. Hedid not trouble over little barriers of this sort in the face of so muchloveliness. He would accept the situation with all its difficulties; hewould not try to answer the objections which cold truth thrust upon him.He would promise anything, everything, and trust to fortune todisentangle him. He would make a try for Paradise, whatever might be theresult. He would be happy, by the Lord, if it cost all honesty ofstatement, all abandonment of truth.

Carrie looked at him tenderly. She could have laid her head upon hisshoulder, so delightful did it all seem.

"Well," she said, "I'll try and get ready then."

Hurstwood looked into her pretty face, crossed with little shadows ofwonder and misgiving, and thought he had never seen anything morelovely.

"I'll see you again to-morrow," he said, joyously, "and we'll talk overthe plans."

He walked on with her, elated beyond words, so delightful had been theresult. He impressed a long story of joy and affection upon her, thoughthere was but here and there a word. After a half-hour he began torealise that the meeting must come to an end, so exacting is the world.

"To-morrow," he said at parting, a gayety of manner adding wonderfullyto his brave demeanour.

"Yes," said Carrie, tripping elatedly away.

There had been so much enthusiasm engendered that she was believingherself deeply in love. She sighed as she thought of her handsomeadorer. Yes, she would get ready by Saturday. She would go, and theywould be happy.